New Horizons
by creamofwheat2311
Summary: There is a balance to all things. Air and vacuum, peace and war, good and evil, light and dark, life and death. There cannot be one without the other. In their most trying times, those seeking to tip the scales of balance in their favor will have to cross new horizons - no matter what uncertainties may lay beyond. Post-Halo 4. Original Trilogy. AU.
1. ONE

**ONE**

* * *

**Sahara-Class Heavy Prowler UNSC ****_Port Stanley_**

**March 5th, 2559**

_SEND:__ UNSC _Point of No Return_ \- CINCONI Margaret Parangosky_

_RECEIVE:__ UNSC _Port Stanley_ \- Captain Serin Osman_

_Serin,_

_Excellent job taking care of Venezia. One less thorn in the our side. Still no sign of our dear friend Jul. He was useful for a fashion, but we should have disposed of him while we had the chance. Getting solid intel from sources that the Arbiter has worked out deals with rivaling factions on Sanghelios. He's unified the Keeps and is turning his attention to the remnants of the extremest Loyalists - like Jul. We might have to rethink our approach there. More talk on that later._

_The real reason I contacted you is because I have another mission for Kilo-5. One of ONI's long-range slipspace probes have detected a large burst of Cerenkov radiation near the edge of the galaxy. So large in fact, that a UNSC patrol cruiser several hundred light years behind you picked it up too. Could be Forerunner tech. Worth checking out._

_Coordinates have been enclosed, travel time is just over two days. Be cautious, and report back when able. I want details._

_Closing note, I hoped you found the "surprise" I left you in your latest resupply._

_Best regards to BB and the rest,_

_\- Mary P._

* * *

Captain Serin Osman put down the data pad, and sat back in her command chair. The bridge of the _Port Stanely _was empty except for her and the depths of space out of her forward viewports. She looked down to the bag of gift-wrapped ginger cubes in her lap, and popped one in her mouth. Familiar comfort - and heavy on the ginger. "BB, did you get the coordinates?"

A black holographic cube materialized out of thin air in front of Osman's field of view. It was Kilo-5's assigned AI, Black-Box. "I plotted the route before you even started reading Captain. Millions of processes per second, you know. Comes in handy sometimes."

Osman humored BB with a smirk. "Where's the rest of the crew? Lets get them a quick brief before we set off on our new adventure."

BB listed the rest of Kilo-5 and their current locations one by one. "Mal, Vaz, and Devereaux are in the wardroom, drinking and gambling. No surprises there. Naomi is in the armory. Still, no surprises. I just just awakened Phillips from his beauty sleep... Dear me, Sangheili curses are, how would you say, _vibrant_. Did you want me to invite the Huragok?"

Osman looked at BB's avatar with a very sideways glance.

"Didn't think so. Figured they're having fun playing with the Mantis."

Within the next few minutes the rest of Kilo-5 trickled into the bridge, starting with Mal, Vaz, and Devereaux. Three tough-as-nails ODSTs, battle-hardened and dependable, they took their places around the briefing table. Next to come in was Phillips, their language and interpretation expert, eyes shadowed, dark red hair and beard in disarray, a cup of coffee in his hand. The thud of heavy boots on metal signified the arrival of Naomi, one of the last Spartan-II's still alive.

Her ghostly pale face contrasted deeply with her dark purple Mjolnir armor, and her helmet was tucked under her arm. Now that everyone was here, Osman looked over her crew. They've been through a lot together: Venezia, the extraction on Sanghelios, the Shield World, and plenty of other missions. She knew she could depend on them, they were _her_ crew.

Mal opened up the conversation. "Do we have another assignment ma'am? Cause lord knows I was getting tired of drinking all that beer."

"Going to have to police those empties," Osman replied. "ONI has decided to send us to the edge of the galactic rim to investigate a large anomaly that one of our long-range slipspace probes detected."

"Can't somebody else do that ma'am?" asked Vaz, "Seems like a misallocation of resources to me."

"The orders came down from CINCONI herself. Besides, were currently the closest team," replied Osman.

"Think Big Maggie knows something we don't?" Phillips asked, quickly working through the contents of his coffee cup.

"She always knows things that we don't. Perks of being the boss," said Osman. Admiral Margaret Parangosky was Commander-in-Chief of the Office of Naval Intelligence - and Kilo-5's direct superior. "She wants us to scout. We have a Prowler. We're made to scout."

"Seems like a piece of cake," said Devereaux.

"We'll see," replied Osman. "We're departing immediately. BB?"

"Drives are spooled. Ready when you are Captain." BB stated

Osman went back to her bridge chair, closed her eyes, and tightly gripped the arms of her command chair. Slipspace jumps never agreed with her. Hopefully the ginger cubes Parangosky sent would mitigate the nausea. She dug in her pocket into the small bag and withdrew another cube, swiftly placing it on her tongue. Phillips found a seat at the of the unoccupied sensor station on the _Port Stanley's's_ bridge. Dr. Phillips, the thee ODST's and the Spartan all kept standing.

Osman closed her eyes as BB counted down, "In five, four, three, two, one, and were off."

Her stomach felt like it had flipped over and her head felt light, but that was as bad as it got. She opened her eyes and stared out the viewport into the swirling miasma of multi-colored , the unknown dimension of slipspace. She took a moment to compose herself before speaking to the crew. "It'll be about two days until we get to our destination. Clean your gear and get some rest. Dismissed."

As they began to leave Osman caught Naomi's eye. She flicked her head back towards the inside of the bridge - the Spartan got the message.

Naomi turned and walked back in until she stood in front of the Captain. "Ma'am?"

Osman took a long look at her, but her face might as well have been Titanium-A hull plating with how hard it was. Spartans were masters at hiding their emotions, a product of spending so much time behind their faceless visors.

"You didn't say a word the whole briefing," Osman said.

"You covered the operation parameters clearly," she replied. "Simple recon job."

"Nuh-uh," Osman said, wagging a finger up at the Spartan. "Your eyes are giving it away. Something's bothering you. Spill it."

The Spartan furrowed her brows, pausing briefly before answering. "The mission. Something feels off."

"Off? Any more detail than that?"

Naomi shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Don't have any. Just... this gut feeling. I suggest we be cautious."

"Caution is part of ONI's doctrine," Osman said, "If this mission feels strange, its our job to figure out why."

"Understood Captain. I'll make sure the squad is ready when we arrive." Naomi dismissed herself, spinning on her heels and striding back out of the bridge. The Spartan was never one for many words.

Osman meandered around the bridge until she was standing right up against the front viewports of the Sahara-Class Heavy Prowler. Slipspace tendrils eddied in muted swathes of light and color outside - she found it pleasantly distracting. "You've been through the supplemental data CINCONI attached to her message BB. Anything interesting?"

"Well, sure. A gargantuan amount of Cerenkov radiation in a sector that has been remarkably quiet for the past sixty-five years of observation."

_A 'gargantuan' amount?_ _That didn't make it into Parangosky's message._ She pressed for details. "How large are we talking about? Do you have any theories?"

"Captain, I could list off theories until your ears bleed."

"Save me the trip to the medbay," Osman said. "Give me your top three."

The AI paused for half a second to sort his thoughts. "A giant nuke."

Osman gave BB's avatar a skeptical frown. "A giant nuke? Who's detonating giant nukes on the edge of the galactic rim?"

"I suppose that would be our job to find out, wouldn't it?" BB said. "Nuclear ordinance releases Cerenkov rads when detonated in vacuum. But, the energy that would be needed for a burst this size would require warheads exponentially more powerful than the Shiva Mk. II's we have onboard."

"If anyone had bombs like that, it would be news to me," Osman said. _And not good news._ "Next theory."

"A giant ship entering or exiting slipspace. Remember the _Mantle's Approach_?"

"Hard not to..." the UNSC Captain said. The _Mantle's Approach _was the Didact's enormous ship that he used to attack Earth. He had used the embedded Composer to digitize six million souls in the metro-sprawl of New Phoenix before the UNSC _Infinity_ and the Master Chief miraculously destroyed it. "If we do find something like that... the _Infinity_ is a long ways away."

"It's a good thing we're designed for stealth then," said BB.

"Mmm. Next?"

"A giant amount of Forerunner fuckery. That one's more broad."

Osman snorted, despite herself. "Forerunner fuckery? Elegant word choice."

BB defended himself. "I said what I meant and I meant what I said. Think about it, what do Forerunners love doing more than screwing with us from beyond the grave?"

"CINCONI did namedrop Forerunners in her message..." recounted Osman. "If that's what she's thinking, no wonder she wants us there first. Fuckery or not."

The two were silent for a minute, thinking on the possibilities. "I'll admit BB. I've got a weird feeling about this op too."

"Naomi rubbing off on you?" the AI asked.

"Maybe. I just wish that we had some support nearby if we needed it. I know Prowlers are meant to work alone, but that doesn't mean that I have to like it all the time.

"That patrol cruiser might be dropping by after we arrive," BB added.

"What kind of ship is she?"

"Retrofitted Marathon-class. The UNSC _Blazing Sun_."

Osman nodded to herself with satisfaction. After the war with the Covenant came to an end, UNSC FLEETCOM retired the venerable Marathon's as the Fleet's main command ships, to be replaced by the new Autumn-class of heavy cruisers. Far too valuable to send to the scrapyards, the Fleet's Marathons were re-purposed into long-range patrol cruisers. With enough self-sustainability for lengthy deployments, and enough firepower to match most potential threats, it was a good fit.

She chewed her bottom lip absentmindedly while she thought. "We'll just have to see what there is to see. Send me a detailed summary of the supplemental data to my PDA."

"Done. If I can be the squad mom for a moment however, you need to get some rest Captain. You've been up for 18 hours. We're going to need you fully functional in case we run into a galactic toll booth."

Osman raised an eyebrow. "I thought Devereaux was the squad mom?"

"Just because she makes peanut butter cookies once a month? I'll short-circuit the kitchen's oven, don't test me."

"You do any such thing and I'll have your datachip strapped to a missile and shot into the closest sun," Osman hotly countered. They were _damned _good cookies. "Wake me if its for a good reason."

"Aye aye, Captain Cookie."

Osman rolled her eyes and started back to her cabin to catch some shut-eye.

* * *

**UNSC ****_Port Stanley_**

**Anomaly at Galactic Rim**

**March 7th, 2559**

"Simple recon job, huh? Bullshit."

Staff Sergeant Malcolm Geffen summarized the thoughts of Kilo-5 rather succinctly. The entire team - minus the Huragok - were all on the bridge staring outside of the _Port Stanley's_ bridge viewports.

"This mission is FUBAR..." muttered Corporal Belio in agreement irritated agreement.

"Quit gawking, start talking," said Osman. She needed more information. As an ONI officer and a Prowler Captain, she _lived _on information. "BB, you first."

"Well, I'll start with the obvious," the AI said, voice echoing throughout the Prowler's small bridge. "It looks like another Halo ring."

Standing directly to the right of Osman was Naomi, helmet gripped in a lowered hand, her outwards gaze hard and analytical. Osman tilted her head upwards towards her, and the Spartan caught her eye. The quick look they shared was one of apprehension.

"This thing is enormous compared to any other Halo installation we've discovered or know about so far..." BB continued. "Half the size of Neptune in the Sol system, 25,000 kilometers in diameter at least."

"These support strut looking things," noted Phillips, "That's new."

The 'object' that they were all looking at several hundred thousand kilometers outside of the _Port Stanley's _bridge windows was a gargantuan ring structure, that at first observations looked like any other of the Halo installations that the Forerunner's had left behind millennia ago. Two immediately stark differences included the sheer size of the construct, and the addition of four thin, intersecting struts that ran the entire diameter of the inside of the ring in an 'X' type shape.

At this point BB had gotten readouts from the _Stanley_'s sensor suite onto the bridge's main holo-display. He zoomed in on the center of the support struts at their intersection, and all all of Kilo-5 turned their heads to look.

"It's a planet," stated Naomi.

There was a small orb of green, blue, and white dead in the center of the ring, all four support struts seeming to connect at equidistant points along the planet's equator and prime meridian.

"How large BB?" asked Osman.

"4,900 kilometers in diameter," the UNSC AI answered. He was looking at the ring through the _Port Stanley's cutting edge _hyperscanner sensor array. "Heavily forested, temperate, breathable atmosphere. Larger than Luna."

"Anyone have any guesses as to what the hell this thing is meant to be?" posed Phillips.

Osman looked back at him. "You've got the Ph.D Professor, you tell us."

"Yeah, in xenoanthropology and languages..." he muttered. "If it was another Halo, another weapon meant to cleanse all life from its operational range, why does it look so different than all the other rings we've found?"

"The rings have all varied in size," Osman said as a counterpoint. "This one does too."

"Yes," Phillips continued, "But think about all the unique characteristics. The Halo's we have found have varied in size, you're right, but this it the largest ring structure we've ever seen. These support struts are new, we've already noticed that. And look, there's no planet-type environment on the actual ring itself, just bare material. Instead, we have this planetary body in the exact center."

"Don't forget the flash of Cerenkov radiation that brought this thing to our attention in the first place," BB reminded. "Everyone remember from high school science class what major thing Cerenkov rads are associated with? Slipspace."

There was a minute of contemplative silence on the bridge as they all stared out the viewports at this enormous structure, absolutely dominating the nothing of the space around them.

Naomi turned to look at Osman. "Permission to lead a ground team to the surface of the center planet."

Osman raised her eyes in surprise. "Absolutely not."

Naomi pressed. "I'm a Spartan, Captain. Idle observations from a distance aren't my forte."

Sergeant Geffen joined in with the Spartan. "Same with us Helljumpers. We may start in space, but we're groundpounders at heart."

Osman stuck to her guns. "Permission denied. We just don't know enough. We will report back to CINCONI and CINCFLEET, make passive observations, and await further orders. We're Recon, not Force Recon." She chewed her bottom lip, thinking more about it for a couple of seconds. "But I want everyone ready for deployment, just in case."

* * *

_SEND:__ UNSC Port Stanley - Captain Serin Osman_

_RECEIVE:_ _CINCFLEET T. Hood; CINCONI M. Parangosky_

_URGENT - PRIORITY ALPHA - URGENT_

_CLASSIFICATION: TOP SECRET EYES ONLY_

_Encryption code 8392-4933-28944._

_Location: Galactic Rim, coordinates enclosed._

_WARNING - UNAUTHORIZED DISCLOSURE OF FILE CONTENTS PUNISHABLE BY MILITARY TRIBUNAL AS PER UNSC CODE 110-23B_

_Admirals,_

_Further investigation into the slip-space anomaly reveals it as potentially an enormous Forerunner installation. See attached imagery and sensor readings. Its purpose remains unknown. We are holding position several thousand kilometers away, collecting data through passive sensor scans. Requesting additional UNSC reinforcements to our location. Will await further orders._

_Kilo-5 out._

_\- TRANSMISSION END -_

* * *

_SEND:__ CINCFLEET T. Hood_

_RECEIVE:_ _UNSC _Port Stanley_ \- Captain Serin Osman_

_URGENT - PRIORITY ALPHA - URGENT_

_CLASSIFICATION: TOP SECRET EYES ONLY_

_Encryption code 8392-4933-28944._

_Location: FLEETCOM_

_WARNING - UNAUTHORIZED DISCLOSURE OF FILE CONTENTS PUNISHABLE BY MILITARY TRIBUNAL AS PER UNSC CODE 110-23B_

_Kilo-5,_

_Hold position, do not engage with the installation. Patrol Cruiser UNSC _Blazing Sun_ will arrive on-station within the day. In process of assembling a Sierra-Class Battlegroup to establish a larger UNSC presence at the installation. Send additional updates as necessary. Stay alert, stay smart, and await support._

_CINCFLEET out._

_\- TRANSMISSION END -_

* * *

**Bridge of Marathon-Class Cruiser UNSC ****_Blazing Sun_**

**Slipspace Anomaly at Galactic Rim**

**March 8th, 2559**

"Well screw me to Harvest and back. Another motherfuckin' ring."

Captain Vasily Ivanov looked sideways towards the source of the cursing. "Permission granted to speak freely, Sergeant Major."

Standing to the left of Ivanov looking out of the _Blazing Sun_'s bridge forward viewports as well, the Sergeant Major let out a short chuckle. "Apologies sir. You have to understand my... _distaste _for these goddamned space loops."

"I do, I do," Ivanov acknowledged, shaking his head slowly, returning his gaze off of the massive structure that dominated the viewport. "You of all people, I understand. Captain Winters? Any thoughts?"

There was no answer for a few seconds. Ivanov tilted his head towards his right with inquisitive eyebrows. "Captain Winters?"

The auburn-haired officer came to suddenly, blinking rapidly and breaking his entrancement with what had captured him out in the vacuum. "I've never seen anything like it sir. Not in person."

"First time seeing giant alien artifacts?" the Sergeant Major jested, "Don't worry son, you get used to it."

For Captain Richard Winters and for the rest of Company E, 2nd Battalion, 506th Orbital Drop Shock Regiment - this assignment to the _Blazing Sun_ for long range patrols was the unit's first deployment. Aside from a core group of long-serving, veteran NCO's like the Sergeant Major, the company's officers and lower enlisted had just graduated from the Mars Drop School two months ago.

"You want us to jump down there Cap'n?" the Sergeant Major posed. "On this... this X-ring?"

"Not yet. I want you to _plan _to jump down there," Ivanov said. He turned away from his observations back towards the interior of the _Blazing Sun_'s bridge. The two ODSTs went back to their quiet observations. The rest of his bridge crew were working diligently at their stations. His Executive Officer, Commander Miri Lawson, was looking over the shoulder of Second Lieutenant Lia Hikowa at Sensors, in quiet conversation as they discussed the data coming in through the _Sun's_ scanner arrays.

At Weapons, First Lieutenant Tom Hanson cycled dutifully throughout diagnostics for the _Blazing_ _Sun's_ various armarments. Two spinal-mounted Mark IX Heavy Magnetic Accelerator Cannons, 1,820 Archer missiles housed in twenty-six pods, twelve secondary double-barreled coilgun batteries, and a comprehensive network of CIWS point-defense systems made the Marathon Cruiser a formidable warship to face in battle.

Second Lieutenant David Jefferies manned Comms, and Ivanov called to him to get his attention.

"Jefferies, anything more from the _Port Stanley_?"

The Comms officer swiveled in his chair to face his Captain. "No sir. The spy sat they deployed to share their data with us when we arrived on-station is still pinging every five minutes, but the _Stanley _is staying dark."

Ivanov narrowed his eyes his lips in mild annoyance. _ONI_. He gravitated towards the middle of the bridge where the main holo-display was located. A graphic of the ring structure filled most of the space above the central table. "Joe, where's Major Williams?"

The _Blazing Sun_'s resident Smart-AI materialized on the corner of the holo-display closest to the Captain. He resembled a twentieth-century American football player, down to the eyeblack and grass stains on his white pants. A navy blue jersey over bulky shoulder-pads emblazoned with 'UNSC' on the chest and 'BLAZING SUN' showed everyone what team he was playing for. "Major Williams is in the main armory Captain."

The UNSC Captain nodded to himself in a knowing way. Major Williams was commander of the Marathon's resident Marine unit, 5th Battalion, 8th Force Recon. She had been with Ivanov from the beginning, right when the _Sun_ was first put into service. _It felt like a lifetime ago when we first met on this same bridge,_ he mused. "Make sure she stays in the loop."

"You got it coach," Joe replied with a one-fingered salute.

Just before their scheduled retrofit, they _Blazing Sun_ had participated in the battle against Jul 'Mdama's Storm Covenant on Installation 03. Brookes' 5th Battalion suffered 258 casualties - nearly half of the battalion's 600-strong force dead or wounded, It was the most costly battle the unit had suffered in its entire fifteen-year tenure aboard the _Blazing Sun._

It made sense why she wasn't very keen on looking at this new ring, when so many of her best and longest serving Marines died on one similar to it. Having to deal with almost half a battalion of fresh recruits had to come with its own frustrations as well - Ivanov didn't envy her. He felt lucky enough that his current batch of 800 sailors were on year three of their second mandatory five-year deployments. Smart, tough, and combat-tested, they were the best crew that Ivanov had commanded in all of his twenty-seven years in the service.

"Captain Winters, Sergeant," he started. Both ODST's turned away from the front windows to face him. "I want Easy Company on standby. Dismissed."

The two ODST's came to quick attention and crisply saluted Ivanov before starting for the bridge doors to get back to their unit. Ivanov caught the Sergeant Major's eye as he walked by and tilted his head, signaling him to stop briefly. "Keep an eye on Winters. He's eager."

The Sergeant Major's weathered dark skin wrinkled at the corners of his mouth as he gave a knowing smirk. Grey hairs peppered his well-trimmed black mustache, and confident brown eyes spoke of decades of experience. "I'll stick to him like a Grunt does to his methane tank."

Ivanov nodded and let the ODST follow his superior out of the bridge. "Lawson?"

His XO looked his way at her name being called, and she gave Hikowa a brief pat on the shoulder before she walked over to him. "Aye sir?"

"What's the latest on Battlegroup Keyes?"

Lawson pursed her lips before answering, obviously displeased. "FLEETCOM is still assembling the battlegroup from UNSC ships in the sector. They are rendezvousing at the outer colony of Coral. ETA is still five to six days before they can make it here."

"Five to six days," Ivanov parroted. He ran a hand along the coarse surface of his modest grey beard. Their orders had been very clear - hurry up and wait. The _Blazing Sun_ was to hold position along with the _Port Stanley_ until UNSC reinforcements could arrive at thescene. "Plenty of time for quiet reflection."

"Plenty of time for someone else to show up," Lawson said. She was pragmatic above all. "If we could detect that Cerenkov rad dump as far out as we were, someone else could have too - Storm Covenant, Insurrectionists... We're on our own out here."

"That is why we will stay alert," Ivanov said. "Run the crews through some drills, keep them fresh. Try and find that Prowler maybe... see how alone we really are."

Lawson rolled her eyes. Like any good sailor, she had just as much an aversion for ONI as he did.

"Twelve hour shifts," he continued. Instead of having a third of the crew on duty at any given time, now there would be half. He expected a few grumbles, but the more crew on duty there was the more prepared the _Sun_ would be if something were to surprise them. "You take the first watch. XO, you have the conn."

"Aye Captain, I have the conn. Enjoy your beauty sleep."

* * *

**It's back - sort of.**

**Redux, rewrite, version 2.0, call it whatever you like.**

**Many things will be new, some things will be old, but most importantly, I'm committed to telling an even better story this time around.**

**Stay tuned.**


	2. TWO

**TWO**

* * *

**Marathon-Class Cruiser UNSC **_**Blazing Sun**_

**Slipspace Anomaly at Galactic Rim**

**March 9th, 2559**

Captain Vasily Ivanov woke suddenly to the sounds of blaring alarms.

With almost thirty years of naval service under his belt, he was moving on autopilot. Since he always slept with BDU pants and socks on, he swung his legs over the side of his bed and stepped into his boots he always set just besides it. The well-worn footwear automatically secured around his feet and its mag-locks disengaged.

Ivanov could hear his Executive Officer's voice coming through the shipwide intercomms with Lawson's infamous icy-cool gravitas.

"_General Quarters, General Quarters. All hands man your battlestations. The route of travel is forwards and up to starboard, down and aft to port."_

Captain Ivanov was through the doors to his stateroom within seven seconds of waking up, belt and service weapon strapped to his waist. He grabbed his BDU top and shrugged it on as he stepped out into the corridor, flashing red alarm lights adding to the harsh white of the illumination strips on the ceiling, deck, and walls of the corridor.

"_This is NOT_ _a drill. Set material condition Zebra throughout the ship. Reason for General Quarters: Hostile Covenant contacts."_

Lawson was still calling the ship to action stations as Ivanov hurried to the bridge, joining a stream of crewmen and women rushing either towards the bow of the ship like he was, or going further back to the port, starboard, or aft sections of the _Blazing Sun. _

There were no salutes or acknowledgements of the Captain by his fellow crew as the battle-station alarms wailed. Everyone had a position to go to, a job to do, and expectations to fill — Ivanov included. Now was not the time for formalities.

He rounded the corridor's corner and came into sight of the bridge within thirty seconds, his stateroom purposely placed close by. He saw six grey-armored Marines in position guarding the closed door into the bridge, knowing that the other half of the twelve-strong squad was inside.

Ivanov didn't need to identify himself to the Marine Sergeant, every single one of the 800 crew members on the _Blazing Sun_ knew their Captain by sight. The Sergeant buzzed the door open for him and Ivanov passed through without breaking his stride.

"Captain on deck!" shouted the Marine Lieutenant in command of the bridge guard.

Standing by the central holotank, Executive Officer Lawson was the only one who turned to acknowledge him, the rest of his bridge crew glued to their respective stations.

Ivanov didn't waste a second. "Miri! What have we got?"

"Storm Covenant," she said. "Jumped in sixty seconds ago."

"How many?" Ivanov asked.

"Too many," Lawson replied grimly, pointing to the holotank.

Ivanov was besides it now, looking at the holographic images within the holotank. There was what had been designated as the 'X-Ring' - the massive Forerunner ring structure - in the background, green and blue planet at the very center.

Sixty-one Covenant warship icons in blazing red filled the holotank. The _Blazing Sun's _resident Smart-AI Joe wasn't visible, but had already classified each contact.

Six CCS-class Battlecruisers, ten CPV-class Heavy Destroyers, eight RCS-class Armored Cruisers, fourteen SDV-class Heavy Corvettes, and twenty-two CRS-class Light Cruisers were in a spherical formation around one of the most formidable ships in the Covenant arsenal - a CAS-class Assault Carrier.

"That's an entire fleet…" Ivanov said, the color draining from his face. _And they were just one ship…_ "Distance?"

"Sixty thousand kilometers to our front. Twenty thousand away from the X-Ring," reported Lieutenant Hikowa at sensors. "Out of weapons range, them and us."

So, the Storm Covenant had managed to jump between the _Sun _and the X-Ring. _Damn,_ Ivanov thought, _Lawson had been right_. If they had managed to detect the Cerenkov rad dump, why couldn't the Covenant?

"Have they noticed us?" Ivanov asked.

"No doubt," Hikowa said. "Covvie sensors have always been better than ours. Probably figuring out what to do about the X-Ring - and us."

"Have a pretty good idea of what they're going to do about us sir…" Lieutenant Hanson muttered from Weapons.

"Captain, we can't engage against these kinds of numbers," Lawson stated.

"I know Miri," he answered, "I know. Joe, is the slipspace drive charged?"

The football-pad clad AI materialized on the holotank, frowning deeply with concern. "It is Captain, but there's something you need to know. I've compared readouts from that Assault Carrier to UNSC intelligence databases… that's the _Song of Retribution_."

Ivanov scowled. "Jul 'Mdama's flagship. Just our luck."

The UNSC Captain knew that the _Blazing Sun _would have to disengage if that fleet set its sights on them. If Battlegroup Keyes was here and reinforcing, they'd be able to stand and fight, but they were still four to five days away.

They didn't have four or five days. They'd be lucky if they got another four or five minutes before 'Mdama's warships decided to take action.

"Any word from the _Port Stanley_?" Lawson asked.

"No ma'am, they've gone dark. Even cut off the spy sat feed they were sending us," Hikowa said.

That didn't surprise him. No doubt the Prowler went into total emissions blackout the second 'Mdama's fleet showed up, as was standard ONI doctrine.

"This is a lot of ships for 'Mdama have assembled on such a short notice," Lawson noted.

Ivanov nodded in agreement. "He must have been planning a large fleet action already, then detected the same Cerenkov rads that we did and decided to divert."

Ivanov definitely _didn't_ want to cede this new Forerunner structure to the Storm Covenant, especially one as substantially large and mysterious as this X-Ring. However, he was also _not _interested in having the _Blazing Sun_ turned into slag at the hands of the enemy. His options at the moment were very limited.

"They're moving sir!" called out Hikowa. "Two RCS-class and two CPV-class vectoring towards us. The rest headed for the X-Ring's central planet."

So, 'Mdama was making a play for the X-Ring. Ivanov had much confidence in his ship and his crew, but he hadn't survived throughout the entirety of the Covenant War without a heavy dose of practicality.

During their refit the _Sun_ was outfitted with the latest Series IX MACs, an additional layer of ablative ceramic armor plating designed to better protect against Covenant plasma and energy weapons, and the first generation of reverse-engineered UNSC shipwide energy shielding.

Still, his one ship against four Covenant vessels... Ivanov wasn't a gambling man, but even he would be hesitant to bet on those odds. "Joe? What do you think?"

The football-pad wearing Artificial Intelligence flashed into existence on the central holo-tank. "I don't know sir. That's some pretty heavy firepower coming our way."

He was right. Two heavily armored cruisers armed with energy projectors and plasma torpedoes, and two intimidating Destroyers with plenty of torpedoes of their own, as well as a myriad of close range plasma cannons and pulse lasers.

The UNSC jersey-clad AI continued. "We'd need a Hail Mary if we wanted to stand and fight."

Hikowa spoke up to alert them all. "Captain, just got a directed laser-ping — from the _Stanley_! With… tracking information?"

Joe swiped the air with his hand in a 'come-hither' motion towards Hikowa's station, dragging the data over to analyze himself. A devilish smirk played across the AI's avatar. "It's a Shiva. "

Ivanov's eyes widened. So, ONI was looking out for someone other than themselves for once. "Our Hail Mary."

The _Blazing Sun_ now had options. Ivanov quickly read through the sift of data about the missile that Joe and Hikowa were displaying on the holotank.

Like the Prowler itself, the ONI Shiva nuclear missile was designed for stealth as well — stealth ablative coating, texture buffers, onboard counter-electronic systems, and supremely efficient heatsinks. After being fired, the enemy wouldn't have any idea it was coming until the nuclear blast was already enveloping them - a large reason why the special missiles cost nearly thirty times more than a standard UNSC Shiva.

"Time to impact?" Ivanov asked.

"Two minutes, twelve seconds," Joe responded.

Lawson gave the Captain a worried glance. "Those cruisers will be in energy projector range before then."

"I know," Ivanov said. He thought quickly, possibilities, tactics, and outcomes flying through his well-trained, experienced mind. "We'll just have to evade."

He looked around the bridge. His command crew were all looking back at him, waiting for his words. "We're going in."

On the holo-tank, Joe apparated a vial of black face paint into his palm and ran two thick streaks underneath his eyes. "Aye Captain."

"XO, get down to CIC," Ivanov said.

"Aye sir," she replied, hurrying to the bridge doors where she would be escorted by a pair of Marines down to the _Blazing Sun's_ Combat Information Center, buried deep within the center of the ship behind several layers of armor plating and hull decks.

With the command bridge being more exposed to enemy fire in order to provide greater field of view to the space outside - as was standard UNSC design philosphy - it wouldn't do to have the two highest ranking officers in the ship able to be taken out by a single well placed enemy salvo.

"Helm," Ivanov continued, "Ahead flank speed! Slice us straight down the middle of that formation."

"Aye Captain, ahead flank!" shot back the _Sun_'s helmsman, Second Lieutenant Tom Smoke. Sitting at the very front of the bridge in a recessed chair with viewports all around including underneath his feet, the helmsman had the best view of the surrounding space. Though his short stature of only 5'6'' had earned him the nickname "Tiny," Lieutenant Smoke was skilled enough at the controls to make the 1000-plus meter long Marathon-class Cruiser dance like a light corvette. "Course plotted in, we'll split those Destroyers on either side of us!"

"Hanson, firing solutions for the MACs. One round for each RCS Cruiser — right through the bows," Ivanov ordered. "Port and starboard missile salvos for each Destroyer on my command."

"Aye sir, calculating!" Weapons Officer Hanson replied, fingers flying across his keyboards as he worked to bring the _Blazing Sun's_ armament to bear.

"Strap in!" Ivanov boomed, as he found his command chair on a raised central part of the bridge, just behind the central holotank. His station officers had already been seated, but they fastened their crash webbing restraints tight around them. The Marine bridge guard found crash seats near the doors to the bridge and secured themselves as well, locking their MA5D Assault Rifles to magplates on their chests.

The _Blazing Sun _shuddered as the cruiser's deuterium reactor dumped power into the immense fusion engines at the rear of the ship. Titanium-A directional nozzles opened to their full width as trails of erupting blue fire shot the cruiser forwards.

"They're accelerating!" Hikowa called. The four Storm Covenant vessels sent to deal with the Marathon-class Cruiser had realized that the foolish Humans wanted to fight.

Throughout the _Blazing Sun's_ bridge, adrenaline was pumping. Heart rates skyrocketed, breathing rates increased, eyes were opened wide, and sweat started beading on foreheads and under BDU's.

This was combat. This was what they did. This is what they excelled at.

"Joe, prepare to activate emergency thrusters on your initiative," Ivanov barked. The two Covenant RCS-class cruisers would be in range to fire their bow-mounted energy projectors just before the Shiva from the _Port Stanley _would arrive. Even with energy shielding of their own, Ivanov knew that those weapons could slice the _Sun_ into pieces. With quick pressed on a small keyboard on his command chair he opened the shipwide comms channel. "All hands, brace for imminent emergency maneuvers."

Several tense, silent seconds passed as the opposing warships closed the distance towards each other.

"Hanson?" Ivanov pressed tersely.

"Ready," the Weapons Officer replied. His hands were hovering near the **FIRE** command on his station holoscreen, which would send the order down to the ship's MAC gunnery crews.

"Bow energy buildups!" Hikowa shouted.

The two RCS Cruisers were charging their forward energy projectors, targets locked on the UNSC warship.

Ivanov looked ahead to the central holotank and found Joe there, facing outwards towards the forward viewports. The AI had crouched down like a lineman right before the snap — one hand gently resting on the surface of the holotank above, knees bent, back straight, head up, eyes straight ahead.

He was ready and waiting, coiled to spring into action at the speeds that only an Artificial Intelligence running millions of processes a second could.

The first Covenant energy projector reached the zenith of its charge.

Timing within nanoseconds, Joe triggered three of the _Blazing Sun'_s six starboard-side emergency thruster packs. The pack's trihydride and tetrazine and hydrogen peroxide combined with sudden pressure and force, throwing the _Sun_ violently to port by two kilometers.

The first beam of silver-white passed by the Marathon cruiser's starboard side harmlessly, but they weren't out of the woods yet.

The second RCS cruiser fired its own energy projector, and again Joe triggered the emergency thruster packs — this time three on the starboard side.

Again the _Sun_ lurched and Titanium-A groaned against the strain of the forceful movement. This Covenant Shipmaster was a little more wise to his opponents tricks, as he ordered his ship to pitch to have the lance of pure energy try and follow the _Sun's_ evasive action.

Joe was a step ahead of him though, seeing the opposing cruiser's move the instant that it was made and reacting in kind. There were two thruster pods on the top and bottom sides of the ship as well, and the UNSC AI activated both dorsal thruster packs, forcing the ship downwards by another kilometer.

It was still a close shave. The crew on the RCS was a good one, and they managed to get their energy lance a second of impact on the _Sun's_ energy shielding, rocking the ship once more with the force of the directed energy.

Back in the bridge, the command crew quickly shook off the effects of the aggressive maneuvering.

"Correcting course!" Helmsman Smoke alerted from his recessed pilot's station as he fired maneuvering thrusters around the ship to put the _Sun_ back on its original intercept vector.

"Shields holding at 67 percent!" Joe advised. Even a glancing blow from a Covenant energy projector was still no laughing matter.

"Time to Shiva impact?" Ivanov inquired.

"Ten seconds!" Hikowa shouted back.

"Hanson, fire MACs!"

"Firing One!"

The _Sun_ shuddered as the number One Magnetic Accelerator Cannon spat out a several-hundred ton depleted uranium slug at small percentage of the speed of light in a flash of orange-yellow fire from the bow of the ship.

Lieutenant Smoke called up from his station as he pointed the bow of the cruiser towards the second target. "Adjusting!"

"On target!" Hanson exclaimed. "Firing Two!"

The _Sun's _bow blazed once again, shaking the spines and rattling the teeth of its crew.

"Torpedoes!" warned Hikowa, eyes glued to her sensor readouts telling her of the intense buildups of heat along the lateral lines of the four Covenant warships.

On the holotank display of the tactical engagement updated by Joe, Captain Ivanov watched as two… five… _eleven_ plasma torpedoes launched from their batteries between the four enemy vessels — right before they were completely consumed by a nuclear sun.

The _Port Stanley_'s stealthed Shiva had detonated just in front of the Covenant formation, but their forwards momentum quickly brought them out of the blast zone.

Ivanov didn't need to call for visual displays, Lieutenant Hikowa had already patched in a high-fidelity exterior camera view showing the Covenant ships as they emerged from the rapidly dissipating nuclear cloud.

All four warships were intact — smoldering, sparking, with small fires dotting the hull and swathes of nanolaminate hull plating slagged from the immense heat and radiation — but intact.

Ivanov was expecting as such. What was really important, however, was that their energy shields were now down.

Timed perfectly, the _Blazing Sun's _first MAC round punched right through the weakened bow armor of one of the RCS-class cruisers, burrowed all the way though the length of the vessel, and punched out the engine cowls in the back. The ship listed severely as it died, critical systems utterly demolished by the UNSC slug.

Two seconds later the _Sun's_ second MAC round pierced the second RCS cruiser, finding its pinch-fusion reactor after slamming through dozens of decks and layers of armor. The doomed warship detonated in a brilliant ball of white-purple flame.

"Splash two!" Hanson said triumphantly.

Without their crews or power to sustain the electromagnetic guidance fields, six of the eleven plasma torpedoes dissipated into the vacuum.

Ivanov could see projected trajectories of the remaining torpedoes as Joe updated the progressing situation on the holotank. Due to the rapid approach of the _Blazing Sun_, three of the torpedoes would have too steep of an angle of approach to hit his ship.

Two torpedoes were headed right for them, and they all gritted their teeth as the projectiles approached.

"Release Archer batteries!" Ivanov yelled.

Weapons Officer Hanson keyed the release of Archer missile pods **A**, **B**, **Y**, and **Z**. Refitted with oversized pods containing 70 missiles each, 280 missiles shot out from the port and starboard sides of the _Blazing Sun_, streaking away from the ship in wide arcs of smoke and exhaust flames.

Ivanov watched as the missiles and plasma torpedoes crossed paths on the way to their intended targets, his eyes continuing to track the incoming fire. He didn't order Joe to deploy any more of their emergency thruster packs - he knew that the _Sun's_ shielding would just barely withstand against the two plasma torpedoes, even at its reduced strength. This wasn't the first time that the _Blazing Sun _had been under fire since being refitted with the shields, the Captain knew what they were capable of.

The energy field emitters flared as the outer sensors on the hull detected the inbound ordnance and reacted in milliseconds.

Ever savvy with their reverse-engineering of Covenant technology, UNSC Research and Development had improved upon the concept of the ship-wide energy shield by designing the fields to erupt only at points of impact, instead of enveloping the entire vessel. This allowed the UNSC shield to perform much more efficiently than its Covenant counterpart, with the shipboard Artificial Intelligences like Joe controlling the flow of power to the numerous emitter arrays across the outer hull.

Ivanov triggered the shipwide comms again. "Brace! Brace! Brace!"

The _Blazing Sun _took a double strike right to the chin, but underneath her fancy new makeup she was still a tough old girl at heart.

"Shields flashing," Joe said after the twin impacts from the torpedoes splashed on the _Sun's_ protective barrier. "Unstable at three, now two percent. High risk of shattering."

If the shields completely shattered after a particular heavy blow, the recovery charge time was immense compared to if they held, even at a low percentage. So that was good, though the important fact was that they were still alive at all. Fifteen years ago a pair of plasma torpedoes would have eviscerated the _Sun_ through and through, despite her meters and meters of Titanium-A battleplate.

The remaining two CPV-class Heavy Destroyers would not be so lucky. Though their defensive pulse laser arrays flashed in desperate valiance, they only managed to pick off around half of the Archers that had been launched at them.

Approximately 70 M58 Archers detonated on the hulls of each Covenant Destroyer. Alone, a missile would be an insignificant threat to the enemy warships, but in such great numbers the high explosive warheads blew the Destroyers apart.

"Splash two more," Hanson called. "That makes four. Targets down Captain."

"Good shooting Lieutenant," Ivanov said. "Joe, damage report?"

"Minor stress fractures in the outer hull from our emergency maneuvers, and a bow shield emitter that's on the fritze after taking those torpedoes. Engineering teams en route now," the UNSC AI dutifully replied.

Ivanov nodded. "Get our shields back up ASAP. Shunt power from the number Two MAC to speed things up. Hikowa, what's the rest of 'Mdama's force doing?"

Joe shifted the holotank display from the smaller tactical view they had been in to the much larger picture of the entire system, showing the _Sun's _position and Mdama's fleet in relation to the enormity of the X-Ring that had brought them all here in the first place.

"Still burning hard towards the X-Ring Captain," Hikowa said. "No sign of any more ships diverting towards yet."

Ivanov pursed his lips. Even just having destroyed four warships, 'Mdama still had 57 vessels in his fleet - including an Assault Carrier. Still far more firepower than the _Blazing Sun_ could handle alone. The Sangheili warlord was making for the planetary object at the center of the X-Ring, and there wasn't a damn thing that Ivanov could do about it.

"Anything from the _Port Stanley_?" Ivanov asked, posing the question to Lieutenant Jeffereis, his Sensors Officer. He knew what the answer would be, but he asked anyways.

"No sir, still silent," was the reply from Jefferies' station.

Ivanov wondered if the Prowler had sent any more nuclear surprises 'Mdama's way, but there would be no way for him to know unless the _Stanley's _crew told him themselves.

Just as the _Sun_ burned past the expanding debris clouds of the four Covenant ships to either side, and the adrenaline from the engagement amongst the bridge crew was boiling down, something happened.

It was that gigantic Forerunner construct sitting in the middle of deep space. The X-Ring. The planet in the middle and the four support struts - they were glowing a brilliant sapphire blue.

Hikowa couldn't help but let the surprise into her voice. "Captain - detected a _staggering _amount of Cerenkov radiation emitting from the construct."

"Cerenkov radiation…" Ivanov muttered under his breath, staring at the wonder unfolding out of the forwards viewports. "My God. It's a slipspace portal."

All at once the X-Ring flashed even brighter, projecting the eleven non-visible infinitesimal dimensions as a solid circle of swirling blue-black - _25,000_ staggering kilometers in diameter.

"'Mdama's still on target," Hikowa notified. "His fleet's on an intercept course with the portal."

Ivanov unbuckled his crash harness and stepped out of his chair, finding himself wandering as close to the forward viewports as he could, looking at a slipspace portal half the size of Neptune.

"Orders sir?" Joe asked, bringing him back to the present.

It didn't matter how outnumbered they were. The _Blazing Sun_ was the only UNSC warship in the theater. They would have to do. "Lieutenant Smoke, set a course for the portal."

* * *

**Imperial II-class Star Destroyer **_**Indomitable **_

**Endor, Moddell Sector**

Captain Hektor Bkaara woke suddenly to the sensation of… _floating_?

His bedding was wrapped awkwardly around him, and his stateroom was dark, save for the strips of red emergency lighting running along the floor.

The thirty-six year old Captain quickly got his bearings. He was in zero-gravity, floating about three meters above his bunk, and three meters from the ceiling of his cabin.

The power was out. Was it localized? Shipwide? Bkaara didn't know. He reached for the comlink on his hip that he carried at all times, even when sleeping. That was still there, but as he brought it to his mouth he realized that the indicator lights were off. It was dead.

The motion of his arm had set him spinning slightly in the zero-G. Captain Bkaara realized that this would be a problem. He had managed to find himself in the perfect position where he was unable to reach his bed, the ceiling, or even the wall his bunk was against.

In effect, he found himself stuck floating in the air.

Bkaara thought quickly. He had trained in zero-G before. He needed something to generate enough force in one direction to propel him in another, ideally towards the floor where he could find his magboots.

He worked to gather the bedsheets from around him into a ball. With careful precision, he threw the ball with force towards the ceiling. Natural laws of physics were on his side, and he started slowly 'falling' towards the floor of his stateroom.

There was banging at his door.

"Captain! Captain!"

It had to be the Stormtrooper Lieutenant that served as his bridge guard.

"I'm alright!" He called back loudly. "The door trooper!"

"It's locked sir!" came the reply. His voice sounded muffled, and not just because he was talking through the sealed durasteel door to his stateroom. It was like his helmet audio modulators were offline as well. "Power's out, gravity is off, comlinks are down. What's going on sir?"

"Damned if I know Loot," he replied. But fierfek he sure needed to find out. He felt his back touch the deck on the room, and he quickly found his boots, sliding then on with practiced efficiency. Maneuvering himself so that he was upright, Bkaara clicked his heels to activate his magboots, making for the door. "Manual override?"

"Working on it sir," the Lieutenant called from the other side. Bkaara could hear the clanks and groans as the Stormtrooper on the other side worked to force the door open. It wasn't long before the visual of a red-bathed Stormtrooper in plasteel white armor came into view through the growing crack in his door.

Bkaara helped the trooper, groaning as he used his hands to further the door apart. The Imperial Captain was out into the hallway the second the gap was wide enough. The Stormtrooper was surprised to see just how fast the Captain started moving down the hallway, getting a feel for walking in the zero-G and the magboots. You had to alter your gait, making sure that you always kept one foot on the deck, walking deliberately heel to toe.

"Bridge sir?" the trooper assumed.

"Yes, but not you Lieutenant," Bkaara said. He wasn't even wearing his uniform, just a simple tunic and pants, but he didn't care. His ship was in distress. At least life support was still online, evidenced by the fact that they could still breath, as well as emergency lighting.

Bkarra continued. "Get to engineering, try and find out why our systems are down. Establish a network of runners from the bridge throughout core areas — engineering, weapons batteries, CIC, the hangar bays. Get me sitreps, fast as you can. I need to know what's happening to my ship."

"Yes sir!" he replied dutifully, spinning on a heel and rushing as fast as he could down the hallway in the opposite direction.

"And Lieutenant!" Bkarra called after him.

"Sir?" he said, stopping and twisting his head and torso back to him.

"Do a security sweep. This could be sabotage."

The Stormtrooper nodded seriously, setting out to obey his Captain's orders.

It was a short distance to the bridge of the _Indomitable_, but his stateroom was meant to be close, Standard Imperial starship design philosophy. He passed a number of the Star Destroyer's crewmembers and Stormtroopers on the way, directing them to join in the effort in diagnosing the cause of the ship's sudden problems.

He found an errant mouse droid floating in the air, wheels spinning slowly, trapped in the zero-G just like he had been earlier. The Captain was going to help it down to the deck but he found that the small droid was dead as well. How far did these power problems go? When did it happen? What caused the _Indomitable_ to suddenly go completely dark?

More Stormtroopers met him as he rounded the final corner that would get him to the entrance of the bridge. They waved him forwards, one of the troopers leaning into the open door and shouting, "Captain is here!"

"Sergeant!" Bkaara called to the trooper in charge of the bridge guard as he quickly approached. "What's your status?"

"Anything electronic in our gear is down sir," she replied. "Everything in the suit: comms, visor systems, climate regulators, all offline. Even our blaster sights are shut off."

"Can they still fire?" the Captain asked, reaching the squad of eight.

"I think so," the Sergeant replied.

Bkarra pointed down the hallway from where he came, to the bulkheads on the wall. There had been no one behind him. "Find out. Discharge your weapon trooper."

"Yessir," she replied, raising her E-11 to her shoulder in a smooth motion, even in the zero-G. "Stand clear! Blasting!"

A single bolt of ruby red screamed down the hallway, lighting up the hallway and impacting the bulkhead, dissipating in a jagged pattern of carbon scoring. Bkaara nodded, hurrying into the bridge proper. "Stay on guard troopers."

The squad parroted acknowledgement back to him. "Yes sir!"

Bkaara found that his Executive Officer, Thom Chandler, was already waiting for him. "XO, sitrep!"

"Everything went down right after we came out of hyperspace," he replied. "All our terminals are dead, comlinks are down, we're blind, deaf, and dumb."

"What a kriffing way to wake up…" the Captain cursed. Chandler followed Bkaara as he strode down the central walkway that bisected the two crew pits to either side. He could see his frustrated bridge crew in the recessions working to try and get something, _anything_, from their dead terminals.

"That's not all, sir, there's something you need to see," Chandler said.

Captain Bkaara already did see it - _them_ rather, silhouetted in front of the bright greens of the forest moon of Endor. He stopped just in front of the forward bridge windows, peering out into space, mouth slightly agape.

There were three ships out there, right in front of them. Each maybe two kilometers above the _Indomitable's_ triangular bow and spaced equally apart - touching distance in space terms. He didn't need electrobinoculars to see them.

Two were sleek, curved, with bulbous bows, colored a strange silver-purple. Large, over 1000 meters in length if he had to guess. He saw no lights of any kind, and both were listing in strange directions - could they be suffering the same power issues that the _Indomitable _was?

One was very different, blocky and rectangular, with little grace to her sharp lines and stark angles. As big as the other two unknown vessels, this was clearly a different design philosophy. Here too he saw no signs of lights or engine flare, just a free-floating ship in the cold of vacuum.

He squinted, something having caught his eye towards what he thought could be the bow of the ship. They were markings, this side of the ship illuminated from light reflected off of Endor's local gas giant.

He couldn't read it, the symbols definitely weren't Aurebesh.

Captain Bkaara reached for a small paper notepad he always kept in the thigh pocket of his uniform, and the black marker threaded through the binding loops. Archaic, compared to standard datapads, but still useful in some scenarios, like when most of your electronics were inexplicably fried. He squinted out the viewports, trying his best to trace out the symbols on the unknown ship on the paper.

**UNSC BLAZING SUN**


	3. THREE

**THREE**

* * *

**Sahara-Class Heavy Prowler UNSC **_**Port Stanley**_

Naomi-010 finished blinking, and suddenly, everything was dark.

Her MJOLNIR's heads-up-display signaled in large red letters that her suit systems were undergoing a hard reset. The Spartan-II's augmented eyes did their best to adapt to the sudden pitch-black that the armory had been thrust into.

The strips of emergency chemical lights embedded into the decks and bulkheads of the Prowler started glowing to life, casting the room in a dim red.

She felt herself start to lift off of the deck. So, the artificial gravity was off too. The magnets in her boots didn't respond to her activation command, so she tried to reach out to grab the edge of them weapons bench in front of her. Her arm felt slow and awkward, like she was wading through sand. Her elbow didn't bend, and she had to really work her fingers to manipulate the powered glove to even flex.

The HUD warned that the microfusion reactor on her back would attempt to start up with a tiny jolt of stored energy still left in the power supply unit. _Success_.

Her suit hummed as streaming codes of diagnostics filled her display, showing the progress of her subsystems booting back up. She moved her arm again — smooth and fluid in the zero-g. With power slowly returning, the intricate network of inner and outer components that made up her MJOLNIR Mk. VII assault armor meshed together again in perfect harmony. She was no longer trapped within a rigid shell of half-a-ton of armor plate, instead now enveloped in the familiar sensation of her second skin.

This time the magnets in her boots switched on, anchoring her to the deck of the armory with a light _thud_.

"Well, that's not good." The voice came from the back of her skull. Naomi didn't hear the words as much as she felt them, like they were transmitted directly into her brain.

"BB? Status report," Naomi said.

"The ship turned off."

Naomi nostrils flared. Kilo-5's assigned artificial intelligence had a very unique kind of dry humor. "Care to elaborate?"

"The reactor is offline. No primary power, and only enough emergency power stored in reserve battery banks to keep the life-support on."

"Sensors? Comms?"

"Nothing. No sensors, no comms, no internal or external cameras or audio feeds. Weapons are down, active stealth is down… the _Stanley _is blind, deaf, and dumb. My only environmental inputs are from you and your suit. I was lucky to be fast enough to transfer myself to your chip when I thought something was wrong."

"Who hit us? One of M'dama's ships?" Naomi said, pursing her lips. "_What_ hit us?"

Her MJOLNIR's diagnostics had just completed. Every one of her own systems was powered and online, including her comms, suit sensors, and motion tracker. She tried connecting with the personal comms from the other members of Kilo-5, but got nothing but static on the lines.

"Just before the ship went dark the X-Ring pulsed with an absolutely staggering amount of Cerenkov radiation."

Naomi was moving, grabbing the Battle Rifle she had been tinkering with on the armory bench. She put it to her shoulder and checked it over. The electronic link of the scope and ammunition counter were both dark, the weapon not linking up with her HUD like usual. "How big of a pulse?"

Her motion tracker pinged, and she counted seven yellow dots representing the rest of Kilo-5.

The ODST's, Mal, Vaz, and Devareux. Doctor Phillips. Their two Huragok. Finally, Captain Osman.

She started for the bridge, where it was likely the rest of the crew would be headed. Her steps were more deliberate, making sure that at least one part of her boot was attached to the deck so the magnets continued working.

"At least four times as large as the pulse that brought us there in the first place," BB replied.

"Four times?" Naomi said with no small amount of intrigue. She stepped out into one of the _Stanley'_s hallways, the white beams of the bright lamps on her chest plate and helmet cutting through the red emergency light that had permeated throughout the Prowler. "That's the equivalent of…"

She tried to do some quick math, but Black Box beat her to the punch, unsurprisingly. "Remember the Cerenkov readings that came off of the _Mantle's Approach_ when the Didact attacked Earth?"

"Yes." The Didact's flagship was the largest warship that Humanity has ever seen. A width and length of 140 kilometers, a height of 370 kilometers, and an estimated metric mass of 4.7 _quadrillion _metric tons. To compare, the largest ship in the UNSC fleet, the _Infinity, _had a tonnage of just under one billion metric tons — five million times less than the Forerunner behemoth.

Black Box continued with an uncharacteristic seriousness. "What came from the X-Ring dwarfed even that."

"Were we transported? Through slipspace?" She asked, turning down another corridor. She noticed four of the yellow pings on her motion trackers converging on the bridge like she was. Phillips and the ODST's.

"Maybe. I think so," BB replied. "But I can't see outside."

"Then let's find a window."

She kept walking, seeing a trio of yellow blips approaching her position. "Sergeant Geffen!" she shouted, her helmet speakers amplifying her voice.

The gruff voice of the ODST called back to her from around a corner. "Spartan!"

Naomi saw Mal, Vaz, and Deveraux pop into view — in full battle rattle. The Spartan waved for them to join her as they made to the bridge. "Report."

"Well, we were relaxing in our bunks when the lights and gravity went out. Grabbed our bedside gear and came to find you and the Cap," Mal replied. His voice sounded muffled from behind his helmet, as if the external audio speakers weren't on. "Wait, your lights are working?"

"My suit is fully operational," Naomi replied. While most might find it amusing or strange that the ODST's "bedside gear" consisted of their entire kit: armor, helmet, weapons, ammunition, and explosives — Naomi found it relatable.

"Ours aren't," Mal said. "Only thing we have is life support. No comms, no sensors, no HUD -"

"Anything that had a charge or needs one to operate is dead on our end," Deveraux said, holding out her MA5k to Naomi. The Spartan inspected it quickly. Like her Battle Rifle, the assault rifle's electronic compass and ammunition counter screen was blank. She handed it back.

"Why'd you get to be the lucky one?" Vaz asked, as the quartet made their final turn towards the bridge.

Black Box answered for her from her helmet speakers. "Because her MJOLNIR and its reactor are more hardened against sudden overloads or electro-magnetic interference than even the _Port Stanley_."

"Ah, BB," Mal said, acknowledging the AI's presence. "Thought we might have gotten rid of you for a bit there."

"And get even just a few minutes of peace and quiet? Wishful thinking," BB snarkily replied. "I was barely quick enough to transfer myself completely to Naomi's onboard chip."

"Are you locked out of the ship?" Vaz asked.

"Yes. I'm stuck in Naomi's armor for the moment. Good thing she's used to it by now," Black Box said.

They found Captain Osman, Doctor Phillips, and one of the Huragok on the bridge. One of the Huragok, Perfectly Balanced, had its tentacles buried deep within the engineering control console. The front panel of the consol had been disassembled into minute little pieces, all floating perfectly still just to the left of the Huragok in the zero-g. Perfectly Balanced was floating fine, gaseous sacs around his body releasing minute bursts of air to move and steady itself while it worked.

Osman and Phillips were peering out the bridge's frontal viewports. Naomi, Black Box, and the ODSTs quickly discovered why.

Dominating the view outside was the triangular profile of a stark-white Capital ship. The ambient light reflected off of the vessel was more than enough to comfortably illuminate the interior of the bridge. The flat surface of the bow gave way to a thicker, layered stern section, upon which a large, rectangular structure with a strip of glinting viewport at its center, and two large domes mounted on struts sat atop.

The Prowler's Captain looked sideways at the Spartan and ODSTs. "Helljumpers, sweep the ship. Every nook and cranny. Secure Needs Adjustment and get him looking at the reactor if he's not doing it already."

"Ma'am," Sergeant Geffen said, motioning Vaz and Deveraux to join him in following the Captain's orders.

Osman tilted her head towards Naomi to join them closer to the windows. "BB?"

"Here," the AI replied, speaking out of Naomi's helmet speakers.

"Good, start analyzing," Osman said. She turned her head to Naomi, who had stepped up next to her. Her deep violet armor and its energy shield glistened in the light reflected off the angular ship hanging in front of them. "What do you see?"

The Spartan took in the scene, using her razor-sharp vision and the full capabilities of her MJOLNIR's optics suite to gather information.

"The wedge ship, estimated one kilometer away," she started. Her voice was monotone, relaying the data, nothing more. "Looks between 1500 and 1700 meters in length. Eight sets of heavy gun turrets in barbettes, four on either side of the layered stern. Dozens of smaller turrets on the hull. That raised superstructure, a command bridge? Observation deck? The domes on top, sensors maybe… or shield emitters? Too exposed to be reactor housings."

Naomi paused. Hidden behind her opaque faceplate, only the AI Black Box knew she was frowning. "It's far too close."

She was right. In terms of space warfare they were within spitting distance of the gleaming white ship that filled the viewports. Since shipwide power was out they'd have to rely on their passive stealth systems to keep them hidden — the matte black ablative coating and the carefully designed angles that usually made the ship melt into the background of the vacuum.

They weren't in the stark empty vacuum however. They were in a system, with a bright sun, planets, and lots of reflecting light. If spotted and fired upon in this vulnerable state, the _Port Stanley _would be gutted even by secondary weaponry.

"BB?" Osman said, "Anything?"

"The profile and characteristics don't match anything in the UNSC databases, nor what we know of Covenant or even Forerunner ships," the AI replied. "And without more than Naomi's helmet optics, I won't be able to find out anything else."

A glint in space caught her attention, and she moved her gaze upwards and outwards, finding the silhouettes of more ships blocking the stars behind them, making out the outer lines of their hulls. One — two ships she saw that were also spaced a kilometer apart from each other.

She she recognized the vessels instantly — as would almost any member of the United Nations Space Command, so ubiquitously well-known were the menacing curves and bulbous bow of a CCS-Class Battlecruiser.

"The Covenant are here," Naomi said flatly. "Two battlecruisers, look ten o' clock.

Captain Osman took another step closer to the viewports, squinting to make out the enemy warships. While she didn't have the advantage of a MJOLNIR's advanced optic suite, she still benefited sharpened eyesight thanks to her Spartan augmentations — one of the few her body didn't reject in manners which almost killed her.

"Must be from Jul M'dama's fleet," Osman said, scowling.

"Seem to be dead in the water just like we are," Naomi added after another moment's observation. "No running light, no engines firing, plasma lines are cold."

_Just as well_, Osman thought. The Prowler wouldn't survive even a grazing shot from a Battlecruiser's energy lance or plasma torpedoes. It was eerie in a way — the Covenant battlecruisers were positioned perfectly one kilometers apart from each other. They certainly hadn't been in that tight of a formation before… whatever force had brought them all here had arranged the ships in that particular way.

Naomi had undoubtedly been thinking that same thing, as her head swiveled to the left towards the _Port Stanley's _side viewports. The viewports were covered by ablative metal plate given that they didn't get much use, and the space typically was covered by holographic instrument readings from the Prowler's advanced sensor suite.

The Spartan strode over to the portside viewport's manual release mechanism, the weighty sound of her bootsteps on the deck amplified by the magnets keeping her anchored in the zero-G. Naomi turned the well-lubricated wheel a few times, forcing the metal over the window to slide down back into its recess.

One kilometer distant they saw the starboard side of the UNSC _Blazing Sun_, the white block letters of her given name shining in the light reflected from the nearby gas giant.

Naomi turned her head back to Osman. Her visor glinted from the glow of the wedge-ship close by. "Orders?"

Osman pondered a moment, analyzing the situation, weighing her limited options. "I think we need to have a chat with Captain Ivanov."

* * *

Ten minutes later Osman and Naomi were assembled by the _Port Stanley's_ portside airlock. The sweep of the ship by the ODSTs had come up clean, the Huragok were still unsuccessful in their attempts to restore power, and Doctor Phillips was elbows deep in analyzing the sketches of some unfamiliar symbols he had traced off of the side of the white wedge-ship.

Through the square of reinforced glass on the inner door Osman looked at Naomi, standing within the airlock. "Don't miss."

"I won't." Naomi turned away from her, going to work the airlock's manual controls. First, a lever to depressurize the airlock. The air left with a steadily growing _hiss_, and soon the Spartan was exposed to the hard vacuum as she finished opening the outer door. She stepped forwards until the toes of her boots were flush with the edge of the outer airlock ledge. Bracing against the nearby wall with one hand, she leaned forward and peered out into space.

A spark of vertigo flashed through her as she stood there on the precipice, but training and her ability to quickly adapt to changing circumstances made the feeling brief. Naomi took a moment to examine the ships in the immediate area. There was the _Port Stanley _of course, the UNSC _Blazing Sun_, and the two Covenant Battlecruisers… but this _new_ ship worried her more than even the known threat of the Storm Covenant did. It was a warship, clearly. Everything about the vessel screamed power: The sharp lines and angles of its triangular shape, like the head of a spear; the brilliant white of its hull and superstructure meant to catch the eye and immediately intimidate.

The Spartan took a moment noting the peculiar positions of the ships in the area. It was as if each ship was an individual point of a pentagon, bows all facing, towards the center, each spaced exactly a kilometer apart from the vessels to their port and starboard. The inexplicable symmetry of it all unnerved Naomi.

She refocused, looking back towards the UNSC _Blazing Sun_. She would be making the leap untethered - the _Stanley_ didn't have a cable one kilometer long - but not unpowered. Her MJOLNIR had an integrated thruster pack on her back that she could use to adjust her course in transit, and in her heads up display Black Box displayed the recommended trajectory for the jump with colored lines running all the way 'through' space to the port side of the Marathon-class heavy cruiser.

Each of the ODSTs had insisted on making the jump to the _Blazing Sun_ with Naomi, but Captain Osman had refused. While the Spartan's armor was fully functional, the ODSTs suits were not. No HUD to help guide them, no thruster packs to correct their courses if needed, no comms to communicate - it would be a death sentence if any of them misjudged their approach or took a bad bounce off of the cruiser's hull and got sent careening into space.

Naomi took a deep breath, bending slightly on powerful legs. Coiled muscle sprang into action as she pushed off from the airlock with calculated precision towards the side of the UNSC _Blazing Sun_.

Naomi-010 flew through the vacuum with her body extended, legs out behind her, arms out in front, helmet facing straight ahead. Her initial dust-off had been almost perfect, and BB just had to fire her suit's thrusters in two short bursts to get her correctly oriented.

As was common with most Spartans, Naomi had a strong dislike of space. She was a soldier first and foremost, not a pilot nor a naval crewman. Unless she was actively defending or assaulting a ship, she always felt a nagging sense of helplessness in the back of her mind when she was in orbit, knowing that if the ship she was on blew up, she'd be just as dead as the average Marine. Naomi craved to have the dirt beneath her feet where she was at her most comfortable - and most deadly.

Moments passed while she got closer to the _Blazing Sun_, the cruiser growing ever larger in her field of view. If this was solid ground she would have been able to cover the kilometer distance within less than a minute, but she didn't have the luxury of a flat surface to run on in the middle of the vacuum.

"Thirty seconds," BB chirped in her ear. He highlighted Naomi's target, one of the cruiser's starboard airlocks. Using her visors magnification, she dialed in on a pair of large handholds built into the hull just above the door. With only a couple of dozen meters to go, BB fired her thruster pack to slow his charge's approach velocity, and Naomi gently connected with a firm grip on the hold.

She maneuvered herself carefully downwards until she could use her gauntlet to pound the word _Thunder_ in Morse code through the outer door. A moment passed, no response. BB had already confirmed the lack of comms signals coming from the _Blazing Sun_, but her familiarity with UNSC protocol gave her the knowledge that a Marine fireteam should be positioned on the other side of this very airlock.

She did it again, this time getting something back a minute later, feeling the vibrations traveling through the Titanium-A and into her MJOLNIR.

_Flash. Identify._

_Port Stanley, _Naomi replied in Morse. Another moment passed before there was a hefty clank of manually operated machinery, and soon the outer airlock doors had opened. A pair of Marines was waiting within the airlock to greet them, magboots holding them to the deck, assault rifles clasped in their hands.

"Holy shit, a Spartan!" one of them said with some surprise, a private whose eyes widened behind her clear helmet visor at the sight of the hulking supersoldier.

"Stow it Private," the other Marine reprimanded, sergeant's stripes on his armor's shoulder pauldrons. With the airlock still devoid of air both of their voices were muffled within the closed environments of their helmets, and Naomi could tell they were speaking louder to compensate. "Identify yourself."

It was routine security, and Naomi answered quickly. "Chief Petty Officer Sierra-010. Here to see Captain Ivanov on behalf of Deputy Commander of Naval Intelligence Serin Osman."

She had used Osman's official longform ONI title for a reason. The large majority of UNSC naval personnel didn't care to question anything regarding the Office of Naval Intelligence. The sergeant straightened and saluted while the Marine private worked the outer airlock door back closed. "Yes ma'am."

The room pressurized and the inner door opened shortly afterwards. The other six members of the Marine squad were on the other side, rifles pointed towards them. As the squad looked up at Naomi-010 besides their sergeant, dwarfing him in height and bulk, the barrels quickly lowered..

"Follow me ma'am," the Sergeant said. "Corporal, man the station."

The Marine turned sharply and started heading down the corridor, the speed of his steps not impeded by the need for his mag-boots. This was someone who had trained in zero-G environments before.

They passed more Marine fireteams guarding airlocks or important ship thoroughfares, as well as naval crewmen elbows deep into wall panels, fidgeting with wires and pipes in attempts to try and restore power. All of them swiveled their heads to watch Naomi pass by, varying expressions of surprise, wariness, curiosity, and... _relief_ playing across their faces.

The sergeant guiding her took a sidelong glance up and down the Spartans form, noting the weaponry and equipment bristling from her armor. "You're loaded for bear."

She was; every one of her suits magplates was occupied by something. A battle rifle stuck to her breastplate, a shotgun across her upper back, a magnum on one hip, and a submachine gun on the other. Within armored compartments were numerous magazines for each weapon, bags of shotgun shells, and the rest of her tactical assault gear and functional gadgets. Onto a bandolier across her chest were clipped several fragmentation, incendiary, and even a couple of white phosphorus grenades.

Compared to the Marine sergeants standard kit —an assault rifle, a pair of fragmentation grenades, and a magnum sidearm — the Spartan's bevy of deadly equipment may have seemed like overkill to some. To her, it was simple pragmatism. "Better to have and not need, than need and not have."

"Roger," the Marine said as they finished making their way up to the bridge deck. He took another furtive look at her, this time directed at her lower back. "And the nuke?"

"Just in case sergeant," she said. Though she didn't feel the actual mass of it in zero gravity, the Hornet nuclear mine attached to the small of her back commanded a presence of its own.

With her augmented hearing and her helmet's advanced audio receptors she could hear animated conversation coming from the direction of the bridge well before they had even rounded the corner the next hallway over. Without the usual running noise coming from the ship it was eerily quiet, and the conversation carried far.

"... would have no support. It's a tactical nightmare Winters! No comms, no surface scans, no orbital strikes or even close air support. If you were to get into trouble you'd be completely on your own."

"It's already a tactical nightmare sir, and we're already in trouble," a different voice said,"If either of those Battlecruisers wakes up before we do —we're all dead, and Easy Company is no use to anyone."

Standing outside the open doors to the _Blazing Sun's_ bridge, the Marine fireteam guarding the center of cruiser's operations acknowledged the supersoldier approaching and waved her in.

Naomi's sergeant escort bid her farewell with a salute, and the Spartan stepped through the threshold of the bridge. More Marines stood guard in the corners of the bridge, and station officers tinkered fruitlessly with the internals of their terminals, as if flipping whatever small switches they could find underneath their consoles would suddenly bring the slumbering heavy cruiser back to life.

Near the forward viewports, which spanned from deck to ceiling, she saw an older, grey-bearded man with Captain's bars in his collar conversing animatedly with a tall, black-armored ODST. The trooper had fire-red hair, was holding his helmet on his hip with one hand, the other extended and pointing out the viewports and towards the green planet beyond.

"We need boots-on-the-ground sir," the ODST continued in earnest. "This wasn't an accident, and the fact that this planet is the exact same as the one in the center of the X-Ring can't be a coincidence. Something important is down there - I can feel it - and the UNSC needs to get to it first."

Well-aware of what his bridge looked like, the Captain's eyes flicked to the side, acknowledging the presence of Naomi-010. Winters had turned to face the viewports, staring intently at the planet beyond. It was clear that he was eager for some action for his ODSTs. That's how they were, bred for the mission.

"I won't _order_ you to do this," the Captain said, putting extra weight in the word, still examining Naomi - and all the weapons she was carrying. "But I agree. If we had power your troops would be on the way down already."

"We can drop without power sir, the pods have manual launch controls from inside," Winters said, pivoting on a heel to face the interior of the bridge. He saw Naomi immediately, eyes narrowing and the corners of his mouth down turning slightly.

Naomi noticed, of course, but was neither surprised nor perturbed. Most ODSTs had an ingrained… _distaste _for Spartans, stemming first from when John-117 killed a number of them during the first MJOLNIR trials. Though it had been over three decades and an entire galactic war against the Covenant later, the institutionalized sentiment still remained.

"Spartan," the Captain said, turning to face her fully. If all eyes hadn't been on her before, they were now. "I'm Captain Ivanov. To what do I owe the pleasure of a Spartan-II on the bridge of my ship?"

Naomi straightened and whipped off a crisp salute, altering the way she performed the gesture in the zero gravity to ensure it was picture perfect. "Sir. Chief Petty Officer Sierra-010 reporting on behalf of Deputy Director of Naval Intelligence Serin Osman."

"ONI has a pet Spartan?" Winters said, scowling.

Ivanov turned sharply on the ODST, the expression of rebuke in his face enough to chaste Winters into bowing his head and turning back to look out the forward viewports.

Ivanov walked towards Naomi, holding out a hand. "Glad to have you aboard Spartan. Is your suit fully functional?"

Naomi shook the offered hand, replying "Yes sir."

"May be the only goddamn thing on this ship that is," Ivanov said with clear frustration. "So, your Prowler is here too?"

"Yes sir. Sahara-class, _Port Stanley_. One kilometer off your starboard side," Naomi said.

Ivanov gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Welcome to the _Blazing Sun_. So, what does _Deputy_ _Director_ Osman have to report?"

The Spartan noted the emphasis put on Osmans official ONI title. While Ivanov didn't look up at her with the outright suspicion that Winters had, he did have a more apprehensive expression about him.

"She reports that the _Port Stanley_ is in effect, totally disabled. Our artificial intelligence has confirmed that we were sent through Slipspace by the Forerunner mega-structure to where we are now."

Ivanov held up a hand to have her pause. "Wait, you have an AI that's operational?"

BB introduced himself via Naomi's helmet speakers. "Office of Naval Intelligence Fourth Generation Smart A.I. Black Box, reporting Captain."

"How?" Ivanov said, "We haven't heard a word from our AI Joe since we lost power."

"Your AI didn't have a Spartan suit to transfer himself into," BB answered. He caught Captain's next question before he could say it. "He's fine, just doesn't have enough juice to show himself without compromising your batteries. Our kind are notoriously power hungry."

"About that," Ivanov said. "My engineering team is stumped; it's like every atom of deuterium fuel we carry vanished into thin air, even in the reserve tanks. We're running life support and emergency lighting off of battery power, but that's a finite resource. Any ideas from the _Stanley_?"

Naomi shook her head. "We're in the same boat. Not even our Huragok have any idea."

The supersoldier stepped past Ivanov to walk up to the forward viewports, joining Winters. "I think any chance of answers is either down there —" she stretched out a finger towards the green-forested world glowing like an emerald beneath them, "— or in there." She moved to point at the gleaming prow of the white wedge-ship.

"Hmmm," Ivanov muttered. He started a pensive pace around the bridge, one hand scratching at his beard.

Winters turned his chin and talked in a low, apologetic voice, eyes cast downwards. "I apologize for my earlier remarks. It's a tense situation. It's good you're here."

The Spartan's nod of acknowledgement was nearly imperceptible. Ivanov finished his circuit, stopping on the other side of Naomi, likewise gazing at the planet and the other ships close by.

"My stored database search shows no matches for any ship matching that unknown," BB said.

"Doesn't look like anything the Covenant would make," Ivanov said. "Forerunner? Or another First Contact?"

"Helluva way to make first contact," Winters sighed. "Look at the size of those gun barbettes."

Naomi's enhanced eyes snapped towards the glimmer of Sudden movement coming from the Covenant battlecruiser directly to the _Blazing Sun_'s port side. She zoomed in her visor magnification until she could clearly make out what she was seeing.

"Sir! Covvies on the move. Elites, Jackals, and Grunts in vac-suits leaving the closest cruiser," Naomi sounded, snapping her battle rifle off of her chest and handing it to Ivanov. Though the electric components of the rifle's scope were inert, the two times telescopic scope still served its intended function.

Winters shouldered his own battle rifle, and together he and Ivanov peered through the glass towards the CCS-Battlecruiser positioned next to them off their port side. They watched as dozens… _hundreds _of infantry poured out of the open side hangar doors, crawling on the hull like so many ants.

"I count roughly 850," Naomi reported after a moments observation.

"That's almost their entire corp of embarked infantry," Ivanov said. "Coming towards us?"

The first rows of Covenant EVA troops jumped off the hull of their warship, followed gradually by the rest behind.

"No," Naomi said. "Their vectored towards the wedge-ship. They're going to try and board it."

"Well," Ivanov said, "It seems our decision has been made for us. If the Covenant are going to look in that ship, then we're going to look on the planet. Captain Winters?"

"Yessir?" The red-haired shock trooper replied, the eagerness evident in his breath.

"You want action? Then get Easy Company down to that planet, and try and find any clues as to where the fuck all of our deuterium went," Ivanov said.

"Aye Captain," Winters said, already halfway out the doors. "We'll drop within ten."

Ivanov watched him go, sighing and shaking his head. "Always champing at the bit for a fight."

"That's how they are sir," Naomi said. "Feet first."

"Right. And you? I see that nuke on your back," Ivanov said next, looking at Naomi's Hornet nuclear mine. "Know what you're going to do with that?"

"I do now," the supersoldier replied. After undertaking their boarding action, the closest Covenant cruiser was now far less populated… it would make her _own _boarding action that much easier. "If you'll excuse me Captain. I have a delivery to make."

* * *

**P.S. The Expanse is awesome. If you like sci-fi, its a great show.**


	4. FOUR

**Imperial II-class Star Destroyer **_**Indomitable **_

**Endor, Moddell Sector**

KLA-09 hadn't been able to pry the grimace off of her face ever since she and her two squads of Stormtroopers had arrived at their assigned battlestation following the "Prepare to repel boarders," command that had passed through the _Indomitable_ via message runners.

It was a kriffing poodoo-pile of a defensive position, and every one of her nineteen troopers knew it.

There wasn't a damn bit of cover within the entire fifty-meter long corridor, save for a sharp turn in the passageway that created a small corner to duck behind right before the closed blast door that sealed them off from the rest of the deck. KLA-09 had positioned her E-Web team and her medic behind the corner cover, but she and the rest of her troopers were very much out in the open.

"I don't like this…" one of her men said, a Sergeant designated JH-2736.

"Doesn't matter if we like it or not," KLA-09 replied, "We have our orders."

"Yes Lieutenant," JH-2736 said.

KLA-09 took a deep breath to help steady her nerves. In truth, she didn't like it either. An unknown alien force had launched EVA boarding parties at the disabled _Indomitable_ for unknown reasons. She tried to think of who could be operating in such a secluded, remote part of the galaxy but her mind came up blank. Rebels? No, Captain Bkaara's orders had said to expect _alien_ attackers. He would have recognized Rebels.

They had been tasked by the Captain with defending a section of corridor within the 'topmost' deck of their Star Destroyer. Hers was just two of dozens of other Stormtrooper squads deployed throughout the deck directly beneath the outer hull of the _Indomitable _that the incoming boarders were set to land on.

The second round of message runners had delivered the information that the enemy boarding force was visually estimated to be between 600 and 1200 attackers. KLA-09 questioned that too — did these aliens really think that they could batter down 9700 Stormtroopers to take the ship for themselves? She scoffed at that though, daring them to try. If they wanted a taste of the resolve of the Galactic Empire's Stormtrooper Corps, she would be sure to give it to them.

Main power was still out throughout the ship, including the artificial gravity. Taking advantage of the situation, KLA-09 had some of her troopers affixed via their magboots to the walls and ceilings of the corridor as well as the floor deck. The entire hallway was bathed in nothing but emergency red lighting strips.

Ship power wasn't the only thing that was offline — their suits were also operating on nothing except for basic life support. It was stuffy inside of KLA-09's helmet without the environmental controls running, and they didn't even have helmet or weapon lights to help illuminate the corridor they were supposed to be defending. _It would get bright enough if blaster bolts started flying_, the Stormtrooper Lieutenant mused.

There was a _clang_ above them, further down the corridor.. KLA-09's eyes went wide, her breath catching in her throat. Several more followed, seemingly directly above them, penetrating the pronounced silence. Her troopers perked up, looking towards the ceiling and tightening the grips on their E-11 blaster rifles.

"Keep it tight troopers," KLA-09 said, trying to put some calming reassurance behind her words. "Maintain your lanes of fire."

The clanging above increased in volume. She could hear the individual steps of boarders — enemy aliens — moving around the outer hull directly above them. She could feel her heart rate spike when the clanging stopped, only to be replaced by jets of fire searing through the hull twenty-five meters down from her squads's position. The boarders were cutting their way through the _Indomitable's_ outer armored hull. It would take them a while, but it made their intentions clear. They were here for hostile intentions.

"Steady," KLA-09 said, "Steady troopers. We are the men and women of the Empire's Stormtrooper Corps. What do we do when the enemy comes calling?"

The response from her squads echoed throughout the dimly lit corridor. "We blast them to hell!"

"Kriffing right we do!" she shouted back. KLA-09 wished she felt nothing but the aggressive bravado the saying implied, but in truth, she was afraid.

She feared the fact that unknown contacts would be coming through the ceiling in a few short moments. She feared the fact that her two squads were more or less trapped in this corridor, with blast doors shielded shut on either end. She feared the fact that their comlinks were down, meaning they wouldn't be able to report their situation or request assistance from nearby squads.

Most of all, as she watched increasing streams of sparks and jets of hot fire penetrate into the corridor, she feared what kind of weaponry these boarders possessed if they had equipment that could cut through the armored plating of the Imperial Navy's most powerful ship-of-the-line.

"HG-5445, PO-7819, prep thermal dets," KLA-09 ordered. "Throw them towards the breaches when they open on my mark — remember, flat trajectories. Push, don't throw."

"Yes ma'am," the two troopers said, withdrawing one thermal detonator each from their equipment belts.

"LP-7777, MN-8330, keep that E-Web blasting when I give the word. Hose down the entire corridor," the Stormtrooper Lieutenant said next.

"Aye."

There was nothing to do now but wait, while the hostile contacts burrowed their way through the hull of the Star Destroyer. KLA-09 flexed her gloved hands on the grip of her E-11, sweating profusely within her armor. A minute ticked by, then two, as the twenty Stormtroopers watched with bated breath while the cutting torch worked its wide, lazy circle.

Silence filled the corridor as the cutting torch suddenly stopped. The air evacuated rapidly between the seams as the new exposure to vacuum tore away at the corridor's atmosphere, taking the sound with it. The section of hull that had been cut away was pushed down into the corridor, the heavy chunk of metal - seared and molten on the sides - being pushed down by forces above.

HG-5445 and PO-7819 pushed their thermal detonators towards the new hole in the ceiling, the grenades floating in flat trajectories in the zero-G. They were on mechanical timers instead of contact detonation, and KLA-09 only got the briefest glimpse of limbs climbing through the hole before the detonators silently exploded, enveloping the descending forms in fire before she could get a good look at them.

Twenty tense seconds passed. There was no movement from above - had the aliens all been killed by the thermal detonators? KLA-09 doubted that, but maybe they had become disoriented by the blasts, or dissuaded from continuing their assault into the ship? She stepped forwards through the formation, her feet feeling sticky with the magnets on her boots keeping her anchored to the deck, and tapped on the shoulder of Sergeant JH-2736. She held up three fingers, then waved them towards the breach. _Take three. Investigate._

The Sergeant nodded, pointing to two Troopers in the formation and motioning for them to follow him. Before he could take a step forward, KLA-09 tapped him again, then laid a flat palm on his chestplate. _Careful_.

JH-2736 gave a thumbs up. Slowly, he and two other Troopers advanced down the corridor towards the breach, E-11's raised. The Sergeant gave a quick series of motions, and one Trooper took to the left wall, while the other inverted himself in the null gravity and attached himself to the ceiling. The Sergeant waved a halt a few feet away, and then had the trio advance quickly to positions where they could just barely peer through the breach.

Several things happened in quick succession.

The Trooper on the wall acquired a target and fired a flurry of blaster bolts through the breach. Near simultaneously, a line of sapphire blue globs shot back from the other direction and stitched into the man, boiling and burning through his plasteel plating. His blaster floated in place as his body went limp, his chest, arms, and head smoking and bubbling.

The head and arms of a creature poked through, a grey weapon with pink spiked sticking out grasped in one hand. Sergeant JH-2736 raked the thing with blasterfire, but not before it got off a stream of pink projectiles that curved through the air into the Trooper on the ceiling's chest. As the creature's head smoldered with blaster burns, each of the pink projectiles knifed deep into their target's chest.

The Trooper exploded in a burst of pink shards and bloody red mist. His chest popped open like a bursting balloon, coating the area in 360 degrees with gore, reaching as far back as the rest of the Stormtroopers holding several meters away.

A smear of blood splattered across KLA-09's visor, and as she instinctively reached up to wipe it away with her glove she saw a glowing blue orb thrown down towards Sergeant JH-2763. It adhered isself to the end of his E-11, and not a second too soon the Sergeant threw the blaster upwards back towards the breach, where it exploded in purple-blue fire.

JH-2763 threw himself back towards his comrades, deactivating his magboots and flying back, when several more blue orbs fell through the breach behind him. They detonated in a second, scorching and cratering the deck where they had fell — then the enemy was upon them.

Squat, bipedal creatures in vac-suits, with large tanks of breathable gas on their backs. Six of them came through the breach, each holding a weapon in thick, clawed hands. KLA-09 didn't recognize them, her mind sorting through dozens upon dozens of species profiles that had been drilled into her during Academy in a second.

She was the first to open fire. A trio of well-aimed blaster bolts impacted on one of the descending alien's chest, burning through its vac-suit and into the flesh underneath. Whether through sudden vacuum exposure or blaster wounds, the alien went limp, pink needle weapon floating away from its hand.

The rest of her Stormtroopers followed suit, the corridor suddenly filling with ruby red of two squad's worth of small arms fire. The five other aliens crumpled against the barrage, but KLA-09 noted with alarm that twice as many of the things had crawled through the breach behind them.

Bright flashes beside her signaled the E-Web opening up, the heavy weapon tearing off alien limbs and puncturing clean through bodies and heads with each rapid-fire round. The corpses of the new hostiles started littering the space of the corridor, but more and more kept coming, and some started surviving long enough to return fire.

Green globs of bubbling energy started striking the front ranks of Stormtroopers holding the line. One was hit square in the helmet, his body twitching as his central nervous system boiled away. Another Trooper had a glob hit him in the hands, melting them and his E-11 into a smoking mess. The woman's screams were kept silent within her helmet, silenced soon as more incoming fire splashed across the rest of her.

A track of pink needles came towards a Trooper who had positioned himself on the left wall in a crouch. Thinking fast, the man shot off the wall towards the opposite side of the corridor, but the projectiles curved after him. They pierced into his body in a ladder-type fashion, and while they didn't explode like they did with the other Trooper, but the needle that pierced his heart killed him all the same.

KLA-09 had lost five Troopers within fifteen seconds, and more of these aliens kept streaming through the hole in the _Indomitable's _hull. The abject lack of cover in the kriffing corridor was going to kill them all. She had just snapped a thermal detonator off her belt to toss downrange when she felt an iron vice grip on the same arm, by the wrist. She gasped in surprise, head snapping around — and her face turned white.

There was another alien peering at her, face hidden behind a thin slit of a clear visor. It was two or three meters taller than her, a long neck - like a Kaminoans, yet much thicker - craning down to look at her. An environmental suit covered its body, thick white armor plating trimmed with purple above a hexagonal black bodysuit. Reptilian eyes glanced at her orange shoulder pauldron, then swatted the thermal detonator and the E-11 she tried to swing around out of her hands as if they were toys. The iron grip clamped down around her neck, lifted her effortlessly off of her magnetic lock on the ground, then threw her with immense force backwards into the wall of the corridor.

KLA-09 hit the wall flat and hard, the air rushing out of her lungs and darkness clouding around her vision. She saw more of the new aliens, four in similar armor, colored blue, sweep through the rear of her squads. Each was holding a twin-bladed sword in a three-fingered hand - wide and curved near the horizontal hilt, tapering to thin points - the weapons sizzling with light and energy.

The Lieutenant's thoughts were cloudy with the sudden pain and lack of oxygen from being flung into the wall, but two words immediately sprang to the forefront of her mind. _Lightsaber. Jedi._

The four blue-armored aliens carved through her Troopers with alarming speed and grace, even in the zero gravity. In some kind of macabre dance they swung and thrust their blades with practiced precision, severing limbs, separating heads from necks, piercing through chests, or even cutting through entire torsos with ease. There was no blood, the blades must have instantly cauterized the wounds, and KLA-09 would have screamed in desperation watching her men and women being butchered if her lungs weren't still trying to suck in air from her suit's supply.

It was over quickly. The corridor grew dim again as the light of small-arms fire ceased. KLA-09's neck pulsed from where she had been held and thrown, her head throbbed with violent intensity, and she felt a sharp knife of pain in her chest each time she took a shaky breath, a broken rib or two, likely. In her peripherals she could see the blast door behind them, a neat rectangular section carved out. _They had come in behind us while we were busy up front. _She chided herself for not checking their rear - a fatal mistake which had cost her the lives of her squads, and hers soon, she was sure.

The white-armored alien came back into her field of vision. His helmet flared upwards at the back, two sharp wings split down the middle. Decorative? Comms gear within? It reminded KLA-09 of the swords that had sliced through her alien looked through the carnage in the corridor with impassive body language, corpses floating in zero-G or still clamped to the deck with magboots. It circled an arm, getting the attention of its four blue-armored comrades. It pointed in succession towards six of her Troopers, remarkably more intact than the others around them, who had been disarmed and thrown into ceilings or against walls just like KLA-09 had.

The aliens moved quickly, pulling the arms of her Troopers behind their backs and affixing pairs of pulsing blue wrist restraints to them. In her foggy state she just now realized that these Troopers were still alive, watching some of them struggle against their assailants. It was to no avail, these tall, imposing creatures were obviously much stronger than they were.

The white-armored alien stepped up to her, and KLA-09 tried to go for the vibroblade at her belt. The alien's arm shot out quicker than her eyes could follow, once again clamping down on her wrist with impossible strength before she could get even halfway to her last hope of resistance. It looked at her again, shaking its head slowly back and forth. _No._

The thing wrenched her arm, spinning her around as KLA-09 cried in pain from the movement, before she felt the wrist clamps close around her as well. Several of the squat bipeds that had served as distraction for the real attack had plodded over to the, picking up blasters and equipment from her Troopers that had been scattered. A trio swarmed the E-Web, looking over it for a moment before disassembling the tripod, cannon, and power supply into their transport sections with surprising dexterity.

In an instant, everything made sense. They were taking prisoners. This had never been an attempt at a ship-wide takeover - it was a snatch-and grab. KLA-09 felt a warmth start at her wrist, then her entire body was wracked with the pain and shock of a thousand needles in each nerve.

Darkness followed.

* * *

Naomi-010 moved like a ghost through the Covenant Battlecruiser, death following in her wake.

Another two bursts from her suppressed M7S SMG, another two Grunts who had the contents of their skulls splattered through the air, blood and bits of skull suspended in the air in wispy streaks.

She had used a breaching charge to gain entry to airlock, bursting in and dispatching the four Jackal guards with deadly efficiency. The Jackals hadn't had their powered arm shields on, and while a couple of plasma shots had splashed across her while she whirled in the zero-G, her own _working_ shields absorbed them just as intended.

No reinforcements had been summoned. The Covenant comms must have been down the same as the UNSC's were.

She had inserted near the ship's bulbous bow, and her destination was the reactor core near the engines, at the stern of the ship. It was a lot of ground to cover, more than 1000 meters, and while she was alone, Naomi had several distinct advantages.

One: The vast majority of the Covenant infantry embarked on the ship had jumped off to assault the white wedge ship, leaving only a token amount of guards and crew behind. So far it seemed that nearly all of the Elites had left the ship, based on how little she saw — then killed quickly — as she travelled throughout the ship.

Two: Her MJOLNIR was fully powered — shields, motion sensor, visor modes, reactive circuits, the works. Compared to the Covenant she had encountered so far, who didn't seem to have comms or shielding of any kind, she was exponentially smarter, faster, more aware, and more protected.

Three: Naomi had undergone hundreds of hours of zero gravity training and participated in dozens of EVA missions throughout her service career. The exposure had forced her to become comfortable in the weightlessness of the null G, and she used it to her advantage. The Spartan flew through corridors with all the speed her powerful legs and arms could propel her with, and when she had to affix herself to the metal surfaced of the Battlecruiser she found herself on the walls and ceilings as much as she did the actual deck. The Grunts, Jackals, and few Elites she came across did not seem so acclimated, moving too slow and awkwardly to offer real resistance.

Four: She was alone. While some may have considered that an immense disadvantage when boarding an enemy capital warship, to her it meant that she could move with maximum speed and intensity that only another Spartan-II could match, without having to worry about babysitting a fireteam of Marines or ODSTs.

Five: She had BB. The intrepid AI was guiding her as she assaulted her way into the Battlecruiser, giving her impeccable directions through the ship and warnings of enemies ahead.

Six: She had a nuke.

"We're going to have to go through the hangar bay," BB said, his voice not in her ear, but in the back of her skull.

Naomi flashed her status light green. She didn't have to use words to say that she didn't like that fact, BB knew as well. It would be the largest, most open space they would have to traverse to reach the reactor room, and potentially the most populated.

As the Spartan worked through the emergency-lit corridors on training and instinct, leaving Covenant corpses still attached to the floors with magboots swaying in place, part of her mind started to wander.

What was really going on here? There was no question that the Forerunner X-Ring — the behemoth of an orbital structure that they had found — was involved in their current situation. But what exactly had it done? Where had it delivered them, shutting down almost everything with a power source in the process?

Perhaps most pressing in her mind, who were the occupants of that unknown wedge ship? The design was unlike anything she had ever seen. Too elegant to be UNSC, too sharp and angular to be Covenant, too large and advanced-looking to be Insurrectionist, and too small to be Forerunner.

Her ruminations were cut short as she came up one of of the large double doors that would lead into the hangar. Naomi looked it over, knowing she wouldn't be able to pry this one open with her hands. She started setting explosives, noting the pings on her motion tracker.

"Twenty-three inside the hangar, by the starboard bay," BB said.

"Is it pressurized in there?" Naomi asked. She needed to know that before she blew the door open to make entry.

"Yes," the AI replied. "I saw the atmospheric barriers online on our way in."

Naomi switched her SMG for her BR-55 Battle Rifle. Stealth wouldn't be needed now. She back up from the door until her back was pressed against a wall, evaluating her entry strategies. She settled on one taught by Chief Mendez, during their first zero-G trainings. It stemmed from one of her favorite books, a novel that was required reading for all of the Spartan-II candidates — _Ender's Game._

Naomi pushed off the wall, bringing her knees up to her chest, her Battle Rifle pointing outwards from between her legs. As she diverted the majority of her MJOLNIR shield strength to her lower body, she triggered the breaching charges, flying into the hangar bay at speed through the fire and smoke, already sighting in targets.

_The enemy's gate is down._

* * *

KLA-09 came to with a start, the immense feeling of disorientation clashing with the flood of memories as to what had happened. She had been captured. Alien boarders had gruesomely killed most of her Troopers.

She wasn't on the _Indomitable _anymore. She peered up through her helmet visor at the cathedral-like ceiling of an immense chamber. Her head rolled, seeing dozens of unfamiliar craft and vehicles placed about in neat rows. Her arms floated behind her, still bound together by tight restraints. _Still in zero-G_.

She rolled her head the other way, and her heart jumped when she saw six more of her Troopers, floating by the tall aliens who had cut through the rest of her squads with swords of crackling energy. _Lightsabers? _Several of the more squat bipedal aliens were present too, a few sporting blaster scorching on their armor and large atmosphere tanks from near misses by her Troopers.

KLA-09 tried to identify the Troopers still with her, but without her visor's automatic IFF tagging or comms, the only one she could make out was Sergeant JH-2763, white N.C.O. pauldron on his right shoulder.

The squat aliens killed around, poking at the weapons they had confiscated from her Troopers, shrill yet muffled barks and yips emanating from behind their closed masks. The tall aliens, knees bent backwards the wrong way, had formed a group where they were conversing in a guttural sounding, unfamiliar language. The white-armored one, obviously a leader, pointed towards the captured troopers. KLA-09 heard a single word that registered in her mind — _Human_.

She was sure the thing had spoken in Basic. Any further thoughts on that revelation were cut short by the noise or an explosion to her rear. The aliens all perked up suddenly, raising weapons towards the disturbance. Then, three of the blue-armored tall aliens' heads exploded in showers of viscous purple blood, adding to the splatter already obscuring some of her visor. Six of the smaller bipedal aliens fell limp a second later, a neat hole in each of their skulls, a fine trails of brain matter and bone wisping out the back.

Only then did barking reports of weapons fire register in her mind. Had the _Indomitable _sent counter-boarding teams to rescue them? As the remaining aliens scrambled for cover, abandoning their holds on their captives and moving slowly to nearby cover with the constraints of their magboots, she heard more sharp cracks echo through the huge chamber. No, it wasn't blasterfire.

KLA-09 twisted her head, trying to find the source of the noise, her body spinning in reaction as she did so. The two tall aliens - the one remaining blue-armored one and the white-clad leader - were returning fire with the whine of their energy glob weapons. More whipcracks of lightning, bursts of three at a time, and more of the shorter, stockier aliens died. They were panicking now, turning their backs and flailing their arms above their heads, yipping and crying wildly.

Their rescuer came into focus suddenly, KLA-09's eyes centering on the movement and the flashes of light. It was hurdling towards through the null gravity at immense speed, legs bent out in front, the weapon flashing in near-automatic pace. Blobs of sapphire energy - the same kind that had boiled through the thickest parts of her Troopers armor - splashed against a shimmering barrier of hexagonal energy: personal shielding.

The last blue-armored alien shuddered as a trio of shots buried into its long neck, nearly severing the elongated head from the rest of its body. The white-armored alien grabbed his fallen underling and thrust the shivering body in front of him, using it as a shield while lancing the air with return fire.

The surprise assailant of their captors smashed into them a second later.

* * *

Naomi kicked out with both boots right into the chest of the dead Elite Minor, slamming the body into the Elite Ultra using it as cover with immense force. The move would have halted her forward momentum if she hadn't triggered her back jump-jets which propelled her forwards after the tumbling Elite Ultra.

The Ultra crashed into the side of a tethered Phantom with a heavy thud, tossing aside the crumpled body of the Minor. Naomi - her current magazine for her Battle Rifle having run dry - snapped the weapon to a magplate on her chest and dove towards the Ultra with her knife in hand. Without energy shields, all she needed was a clean thrust into the Elite's neck.

The Ultra saw her move, shifting to a side so that the Spartan's knife buried itself into the skin of the Phantom all the way to the hilt, a severe demonstration of Naomi's armor-enhanced strength. The Elite reached out a hand and grabbed onto her forearm, using his newfound hold to swing himself and the Spartan around. The Ultra had likewise returned his Plasma Repeater to his hip, going for the thin hilt of his energy sword, but Naomi's free hand shot forwards and clamped down on the wrist in much the same manner that her enemy had done to her.

Using his momentum, the Elite finished spinning Naomi around and slammed her into the side of the Phantom _hard_. Her shields flashed from the impact, and she felt a lance of pain in her lower back, right where the HAVOC nuclear mine was clamped.

The Elite did something that surprised her next. He _spoke_ to her.

"Stop!" he shouted, voice tinged with the strain brought from their grappling. "Spartan! We do not need to do this!"

Naomi could look into the Elite's eyes through the clear visor of his helmet. They were more reptilian than human, yet she thought she could see alarm, and… _recognition_ in them?

The Spartan-II headbutted the Ultra as hard as she could. The Elite's head snapped back as his body went limp, knocked unconscious by the ferocity of the blow. She acted quickly, spinning the Elite around and stripping him of his weapons and equipment. She found a set of shock-restraints, which she affixed to the Elite's wrists before leaving him floating in the air.

"Uh, Naomi?" BB said, concern in his voice. "Could you check the nuke for me?"

Her eyebrows raised, remembering she had hit the nuke hard during the brief fight. She reached and retrieved the mine from the small of her back, dismayed to see the front access panel severely dented inwards. Carefully, she pried it off, allowing her to look at the internals inside — including the chronometer she would use to set the nuke's timer.

Naomi's eyes widened fully, and her heart skipped a beat. The chronometer had been clearly damaged. It had inadvertently been set, and was currently counting down through a severely cracked glass screen. Three minutes and thirty seconds.

_Shit._

She left the damaged nuke floating in the air.

Her head swiveled around the hangar bay, mind going into overdrive. No chance taking a transport out of here, if the Covenant's Banshees and Phantoms had been operational they would have been in use currently. She could try launching herself out of the magnetic containment fields into space at maximum speed, but no, she wouldn't clear the blast zone in time.

_There, in the corner, a drop pod bay. _

BB could see where she was looking. "Those can be launched without power."

Naomi was moving in an instant. She grabbed the still unconscious Elite Ultra, hurling his body through the air towards the drop pods. She was about to push off after him when flashes of white caught in her peripherals.

The soldiers from the wedge-ship. At least, that's what she assumed they were. Certainly not UNSC, nor Covenant. They had to have been captured during the raid the Battlecruiser's infantry corp had embarked on. They stood out like sore thumbs, floating restrained in the zero gravity, white armor the same color as the triangular ship outside.

"Do we leave them?" BB asked the question that was already working through her brain.

It would be easier to just leave them, Naomi knew. Curiosity won out a split-second later. If nothing else, they were intelligence assets. It would be useful to try and figure out the information they knew… but she couldn't do that if they died in nuclear fire.

She used her jump jets to rocket towards them, reloading her Battle Rifle and having it at the ready. "Who are you?" she boomed towards them, external audio speakers amplifying her questions.

They all had been watching her the entire time she had been fighting, she guessed, but only one of them spoke. A female voice, in _English._

"You speak basic?" she said. Naomi could tell she was frightened, beneath a top layer of feigned confidence.

The Spartan switched questions. The clock was still ticking down. "Are you Human?"

The one who had spoken answered, nodding her head as she said breathlessly, "Yes, we all are."

Naomi maneuvered over to the woman until she was right in front of her. A mirrored black visor obscured any view of her face. Instead, she reached forwards and grabbed the sides of the helmet, pulling it off the restrained soldier's head.

Underneath, a pale, white woman with dark freckles and auburn hair in a small bun looked back up at her with sharp green eyes. They darted all over her, from her opaque hexagonal visor, to her thick, angular chest plating, and the arsenal of weaponry she was carrying.

"Are you from that wedge-ship?" Naomi asked.

The woman worked moisture onto her dry lips with her tongue, saying, "The _Indomitable_? Are you with the aliens who attacked us?"

"No," Naomi replied, gesturing towards one of the Elite Minor's whose skull she had opened with rounds from her Battle Rifle. The _Indomitable_… she had a name for their mystery ship now, more than she started with. "What's your name soldier?"

"KLA-09," she replied with automatic efficiency.

Another piece of information. Alphanumeric designations in place of actual names. "Do you want to die on this ship KLA-09?"

She shook her head emphatically, as did some of the other restrained soldiers around her.

"Are you sure about this?" BB asked, "We know nothing about these guys."

"Enemy of my enemy," Naomi said back to the AI privately. She had made her decision, and she could always shoot them if she needed to. She spoke to KLA-09 again, saying, "We have two minutes and forty-five seconds to get out of here before this ship turns into a small sun. If I take you out of these restraints will you try and shoot me?"

"No ma'am," she replied quickly, desperate relief playing across her features.

_Ma'am,_ Naomi thought with a second's amusement. She did suppose she had definite command of the current situation. Naomi put the woman's helmet back over her head, noting the automatic seal the black undersuit made. She spun her around in the null gravity like a child's toy, cutting through her shock restraints with her knife.

The Spartan worked through the restraints of the other white-armored soldiers in turn, each one quickly scrambling for the floating pieces of their gear and weaponry that had also been taken by the Covenant raiding team. She pointed towards the corner of the Hangar Bay, where the drop pods were. "Over there, go. Anyone raises a weapon and I put a bullet in their skull."

Five of the soldiers pushed off immediately for the drop pods. Two, including KLA-09, Naomi physically grabbed and threw through the air at speed. She followed, Battle Rifle raised, ready to eliminate anyone who gave her undue concern.

Naomi found the manual release for one of the large drop-pods doors, gesturing the white-clad soldiers inside. "Get in."

They followed her direction without hesitation. Lastly, she grabbed the limp body of the Elite Ultra and dragged him into the pod, hitting the release to shut the door behind them.

"Sixty seconds," BB warned.

The soldiers were milling about the center of the pod, obviously unfamiliar with the alien design. It was one of the large pods able to accommodate an entire Lance of ten Elites.

Naomi took KLA-09 — identifiable by a steak of Elite blood across her helmet — by the arm and pushed her into an awaiting crash cresh, the liquid shock gel confirming around him. Seeing her example, the other soldiers quickly followed suit.

The Spartan put the unconscious Elite Ultra in the cresh next to her, then found one for herself. It was the commander's cresh, with the pod controls embedded into a built-in control panel. She slammed the manual launch button, and plasma rockets fired them out of the hangar bay and away from the doomed Battlecruiser above.

There was a section of the drop-pod's flooring that was semi-transparent, enough so to make out the evident increase in ambient light as the HAVOC mine detonated within the Covenant cruiser they had left behind, and showed the forested surface of the planet below quickly approaching.

They hit the atmosphere, the vision through the floor window obscured by re-entry flames. The pod shook with vigorous violence, lacking any of the automated turbulence controls or inertial dampening that would have been offered with full power.

Naomi ignored it all, focusing intently on the approaching ground as they broke through the top levels of the atmosphere. She would have to manually activate the landing rockets, and if she misjudged it they would splatter onto the ground.

The emerald green of the forest rushed up towards them, and her hand hovered over the descent controls. She was about to activate the descent rockets when something… _interesting _happened.

A large swath of ground, trees, rocks, cliffs, even a river, folded downwards into the earth along an octagonal seam. Naomi had seen only one instance of such a thing in her life — the outer shell of the Forerunner Shield World turned ONI research base of Onyx opening up to allow entrance into the inner Dyson Sphere.

She paused on the descent controls, the pod racing through the sudden hole in the earth and into the 'crust' of the planet. Darkness gave way to light, then massive voluminous clouds, and once they passed through those, sprawling snow-white mountain ranges. She activated the descent rockets, her cresh spinning around to face her the opposite way towards the outside of the pod. The G-forces of the deceleration compressed her chest even through her MJOLNIR, but within seconds the pod hit the ground with a forceful shudder, and the panel in front of her exploded outwards.

Naomi leapt out of the pod, Battle Rifle raised, scanning the surroundings. Snow, mountains, the occasional pine-needled tree. She looked upwards, seeing a darkening blue 'sky' dotted with streaks of clouds, a bright manifestation of a sun hanging low in the sky. She increased the zoom of her visor to maximum, looking towards the hole in the forest planet that they had fallen through. She witnessed the sharp edges of the crust molding itself back together, the shimmering metal of the lower panels replaced with the same coloration of the 'sky' around it as it sealed back up.

The Spartan took quick stock of the situation. This wasn't just a planet, it was a Forerunner installation, or at least, it seemed to be. She had fallen _through _the first level of the surface, and down below into the real inner world contained within. Presumably, she was completely cut off from the ships in orbit, the _Port Stanley _and the _Blazing Sun_ and any UNSC support. She had an unconscious Elite Ultra as a prisoner, and seven armed soldiers - _Human _soldiers - who had come from the unknown wedge ship they had seen in orbit, who she knew almost nothing about.

"Well," BB said, breaking his long silence. Evidently he had been processing things just as much as she had. "What now?"


End file.
